The Evans Family and the Philosopher's Stone
by Irishdanceringrulz1776
Summary: Your basic Harry Potter with extra characters added in story, book one. There will be some changes in the plot, hopefully not all bad! Rated T because I'm paranoid, and later on in the series, I may actually need it...
1. The Children Who Lived

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved with anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blond and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and an infant daughter called Margaret, and in their opinion, there were no two finer children anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters or the Evans. Mrs. Potter and Mr. Evans were Mrs. Dursley's siblings, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she was an only child, because her siblings and their spouses were all four good-for-nothing, in her mind, and were unDursleyish as possible. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Evans or the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that they both had young children, but they had never seen them. These children were another good reason for keeping Petunia's siblings away; they didn't want Dudley or Margaret mixing with children like that. 

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside that to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily while holding a hand over Dudley's mouth to get him to stop screaming, as Margaret was still half asleep in her arms.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window, besides Margaret, who could not communicate what she saw, being only about a year old.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, kissed Margaret, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye, but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat sitting on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive- no, _looking_ at the sign; cats couldn't read maps _or_ signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usually morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald green cloak that clashed with his bright red hair horribly! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was obviously some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He_ didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed, open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nightimt. Mr. Dursely, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important phone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He soon noticed the owls, as one of them dropped its dropping over his head. Disgruntled, he continued onwards. He forgot about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. HE eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large donut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potter's, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-and the Evans, too. Don't forget them-"

"-yes, and the three children, Harry, Lily, and Petunia-"

Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name... Nor was Evans. He was sure there were lots of people with children named Harry, Lily, and Petunia. In fact, Petunia had mentioned that in secondary school, there had been another girl named Petunia Evans. He wasn't even sure he had a nephew called Harry- maybe his name was Harvey, or Harold. Why his sister-in-law or brother-in-law would name their daughter after his wife, he couldn't imagine- they were the ones who stopped speaking to the Dursleys. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got upset at any mention of either of her siblings. He didn't blame her- if _he'd_ had any siblings like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem upset at all. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into his driveway, the first thing he saw-and it didn't improve his mood-was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into his house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had a nice normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley and Margaret had been put to bed, he went into the living room to watch the evening news. He caught the last report:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters and the Evans...

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from either of your siblings lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she was an only child.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... Shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"_So?_" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... _their_ crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the names "Potter" and "Evans". He decided he didn't dare. Instead, he said, as casually as he could, "The boy, he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "In fact, his cousins would be too."

"What're their names again? Howard, Lily and Polly, aren't they?"

"Harry, Lily, and Petunia. Harry's nasty and common, if you ask me. Lily- I'd never name _my_ daughter Lily. As for that last one- Petunia. Why would they name their child after me? I say they are crazy, and it is good we didn't keep in touch when our parents died."

"Oh yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with Petunia's family? If it did... If it got out that they were related to a bunch of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if _they_ were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters and Evans very well knew what he and Petunia thought of them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on-he yawned and turned over- it couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no signs of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a cat door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen before on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, both of which were long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging through his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it was gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day."

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out in the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledpre here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A _what_?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone-"

"My dear professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who'. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too-well- _noble_ to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed this much since Madame Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter, and Harold and Ana Evans are- are-that they're - _dead_."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... Harold and Ana... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagalls voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying that he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore shook his head. "My dear Minerva, that is not all. As you know, you are able to cast more than one spell at a time, if you are fast enough. He shot the Killing Curse not once, but thrice. It rebounded off of all three of his victims- Harry Potter, Lily Evans and Petunia Evans. He did disappear, true. But think of it- he has killed people in this way before."

"It's-it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill three small children? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did they survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as a he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring the children to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family they have left now."

"You don't mean- you _can't_ mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street screaming for sweets. The daughter seems to be too young to do much, but I believe that she will turn out just like her brother. Harry Potter and the Evans girls come and live here!"

"It's the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when they're older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They'll be famous- legends- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Evans day in the future- there will be books written about them- every child in our world will know their names!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to any child's head. Famous before she could walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off they'll be, growing up away from all that until they're ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are these children getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding three children underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it was _wise_ to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle and sidecar weren't huge, it was nothing compared to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild_- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trashcan lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. After he bent over into the sidecar, there was, in his vast, muscular arms, a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir. The girls are still asleep in the sidecar."

"No problems, were there?"

"No sir- house was almost destroyed, but I got 'em out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They girls were asleep t' begin with, an' he fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forhead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where-?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." Dumbledore moved over to the sidecar and picked up the other two babies. One was red-haired and the other blond-haired. He smiled, remembering Lily and Harold Evans. They were twins, although Harold was often mistaken for Petunia's twin. It seemed his daughters matched him and his twin sister perfectly. They also both had a scar from the curse that rebounded, although the red-haired baby's scar was shaped like a curlicue, on the back of her hand, and the blond one had a leaf-like pattern on the back of her neck. "As will they."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give him here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore balanced the three babies in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.

"Could I- could I say good-bye to them, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over the three children, and gave them each what must have been a very scratch, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-c-can't stand it- Lily' an' James an' Harold an' Audrey dead- and their poor little children off ter live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid the three children gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the three little bundles; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night, causing a baby to waken on the street.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner, he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the blankets holding the three babies on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry, Lily, and Petunia," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which still sounded with noise of an infant crying. The light in Margaret's room turned on, and the crying soon quieted. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, not knowing that he and his two cousins would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by their cousin Dudley, not even knowing that his two closest cousins laid on either side of him, sleeping just as soundly as he did... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices "To Harry Potter, Lily Evans and Petunia Evans- the children who lived!"

**I know that this isn't my usual H2O story or anything, but I have been working on this for a while, and so I decided to post it...**

**I plan on, after I finish the whole original series, making it a cross over as well, with Percy Jackson (although they will obviously never meet Percy Jackson, as he was after their time...)**

**And, I have never, nor will I probably ever, own the copyrights to this story, or at least, the parts that you recognize... Those that you don't, you either have yet to read the amazingness of _Harry Potter_, or I made it up.**

**Please review, and tell me what you would like to see. I have up through the Sorting done, and I sort of know where I want it to go, BUT I am open to changes to things that I have yet to write...**


	2. The Vanishing Glass

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken to find their two nieces and nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front garden and lit up the brass number four on the Dursley's front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had elapsed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large beach ball wearing bonnets, or a slightly smaller beach ball in a flowerpot- but neither Dudley or Margaret Dursley were babies now, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, or a thin black haired girl holding her first trophy from a swim meet, or them both on a carousel at a fair, being hugged by their mother, playing a computer game with their father, and seated together for professional photographs with both their parents. The room held no sign that three other children lived there as well.

Yet Harry Potter still lived there, as did Lily and Petunia Evans, all three asleep at the moment, but not for much longer. Their Aunt Petunia went down the three flights of stairs, hitting each of their cupboard doors, telling them to get up.

She rapped an extra time on Harry's door. "Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and the sound of a frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside his door.

"Are you up yet?"

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect for Dudley's birthday."

Harry groaned, as did Lily, who had come down the stairs, having listened to her aunt.

"What did you say?" their aunt snapped at both of them.

"Nothing, nothing..." Both mumbled in unison.

Dudley's birthday- how could they have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because his cupboard was full of them, just like Lily's was full of mice, and Petunia's full of moths.

When he was dressed he walked down the hall to the kitchen. Lily had gone upstairs to drag Petunia out of bed. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to the other four children who lived in the house, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise, unless it involved punching someone. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, although he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Dudley would never punch his sister, or Lily, who scared him. He would punch Petunia, except for the fact that she looked exactly like his mother, which was the only reason why Petunia tolerated her at all.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry and Lily both had always been really small and skinny for their ages. Harry looked even smaller because he had to wear Dudley's hand-me-downs, and Dudley was about four times his size. Lily wore Petunia's hand-me-downs, as Petunia was taller and slightly wider than Lily, although not by much. Their aunt would buy Petunia's clothes second-hand at a discount store. Petunia did not get much say in her clothes, and most of the really bad things never made their way to Lily, whom Petunia regarded as her baby sister, and therefore took care of her.

All three children had thin faces, knobbly knees and bright green eyes. Harry had untidy black hair, Lily had red hair and Petunia was blond. Harry wore glasses that were held together with Scotch tape because of all the times that Dudley had broken them. The only thing that the three of them liked about Harry's appearance, besides his eyes, which none of the Dursleys had, and they all three had, was Harry's scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it for as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions_- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way- all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. By this time, Lily had squeezed the orange juice and Petunia had shifted the presents to set the table. Margaret had come down early to hang a banner that she had made as a surprise for Dudley, that said "Happy Birthday, Dudley!" in big blue letters. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He has a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that laid smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel- Margaret often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Margaret looked the most like Lily. The three girls were all the same age, and Margaret considered herself an Evans or a Potter. She pretended to dislike her cousins and dote on her brother, but, in truth, she doted on her cousins and disliked her brother. She was small and bony, petite in height, really thin, and she kept her hair short. She had large, dark green eyes, although they were shaped differently from her cousins' eyes. She looked most like her mother, but even those similarities were marginal. In truth, she looked like a more contrasted version of Lily, with her light skin, dark hair and dark green eyes.

She watched Harry put the plates of eggs and bacon on the table, which was difficult, because, despite Petunia's best efforts, there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here, right under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. The other four children, seeing a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began eating as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another _two_ presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that alright?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard word. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, Dudley. Which is one more than last year." said Margaret.

"Oh." Dudley sat down and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair. Petunia and Lily both rolled their eyes, while Margaret pretended to vomit.

At that moment, the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to go answer it while everyone else watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head to Lily, Petunia, and Harry.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, the Dursleys would take Dudley and a friend alone on an outing for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, the Harry, Lily, and Petunia were left at Mrs. Figg's house, two streets away. Her house smelled of cabbage, and she made them look at pictures of all of the cats that she had ever owned. Margaret was lucky enough to, from Dudley's seventh birthday on (when she was six), have been allowed to stay home in her room.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry in particular, and the 3 children in general, as though they had planned this. Lily knew that she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she was reminded that it was a whole year until they had to look at Tibbles, Snow, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon. She hates them."

The Dursleys often spoke of their charges as though they were not there, or, worse, something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend- Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Petunia said hopefully (they'd be able to watch what they wanted to on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back to find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"We wouldn't blow up the house," said Lily, but they weren't listening.

"It's the boy I'm worried about, Vernon... I suppose the girls could stay- Margaret has been a good influence on them, after all... I suppose we could take him with us to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "...and leave him in the car..."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying- it had been years since he'd really cried- but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I...don't...want...him...t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Petunia chose that moment to say, "Although... Maybe this place would be nicer on fire...", causing her aunt to decide, at that moment, that it would become a family outing. A moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Harry, who could not believe their immense luck, was sitting behind Margaret in Aunt Petunia's car, with the twins on his right side, heading to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle could not think of anything else to do with him and his cousins, but while driving, his uncle lectured them incessantly about what to do.

"I'm warning you," he was saying, watching them in the rearview mirror. "I'm warning you three now, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll all be locked in Lily's cupboard until Christmas."

"We aren't going to do anything," said Lily, "honestly..."

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe her. No one ever believed any of them.

The problem was, strange things often happened around not just Harry, Lily and Petunia, but Margaret as well, and it was just no good telling the Dursleys that they didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left to, "hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly the same as it had been on the way home from the barber shop. He had been given a week in his cupboard, as had both Lily and Petunia, for that one incident, even though none of them could explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia was trying to force Petunia into a hideous sweater she had gotten at a second hand shop. The harder she tried to pull it over her head, the smaller it got, until it probably would not have fit a hand puppet, and certainly would not have fit Petunia, or even Lily. Aunt Petunia decided it must have shrunk in the sanitizing wash that she washed the girls' clothes in, and, to their great relief, no one was punished for it.

On the other hand, they'd all gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing the four of them, as usual, when, as much to the surprise as anyone else's, there they were sitting on the various chimneys. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from the school telling them that the four children had been climbing school buildings. But all they'd tried to do (as Harry shouted to Uncle Vernon through the locked cupboard door) was jump behind the trashcans outside the kitchen doors. They all four thought that the wind must have caught them mid-jump.

Another time, Margaret decided to try diving. Lily was also on the swim team at that time, and Petunia was already a diver, but they were both home sick with the flu. Margaret jumped on the diving board, and somehow managed to jump ten feet higher than anyone had ever managed to do. The dive coach asked her to do it again, and she did, but somehow managed to stay stuck in the air. At that time, her father came in to pick her up, and, finding her in the air, hovering, looked for his nieces, but couldn't find them. They were still given cupboard time, but Margaret was not allowed on the diving board anymore either.

The day they were no longer grounded, Lily somehow managed to half strangle Dudley with some flowers on the table, although she did not touch them or wrap them around his neck. She was grounded for another month.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth it to hear Uncle Vernon's lecture that he practiced every night before going to bed. It had gotten to an impressive length, in which he would tell them all the rules, to not be spending the day at school, in their cupboards, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Margaret, who listened better than even Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, Lily, Petunia, Margaret, the council, Harry, Lily, Petunia, Margaret, the band, Harry, Lily, and Petunia were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"...roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

"Oh! Me too!" exclaimed Lily and Petunia at the same time. Uncle Vernon nearly crashed the car in front. He turned around in his seat and yelled at the three children, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Petunia snickered at his red face.

"We know they don't," said Lily. "It was only a dream."

But they all three wished they hadn't said anything. If there was anything the Dursleys hated even more than questions, it was them talking about anything that acted in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream, or even a cartoon- they seemed to think that they might get dangerous ideas.

It was a very sunny Saturday, and the zoo was crowded with families. The two-car caravan met up again, and the Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the front entrance, and then, because the smiling lady in the ice cream van had asked what the other four children wanted, saying it would be buy one, get one free, they bought the cheapest ice creams, two lemon pops and two push pops. They weren't bad, either, the four children thought, licking them as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. The girls were all nowhere to be seen, because Aunt Petunia gave Margaret some money and told her to make herself scarce. Uncle Vernon, for once, did not want Harry out of his eyesight, and therefore insisted that he stay with them, where he could keep an eye on him. They met the girls and ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought another and asked for more spoons, giving Harry, Lily, and Petunia the rest of Dudley's dessert.

The four cousins agreed, afterwards, that they all felt that they should have known that it was too good to last.

After lunch, they all went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can- but at the moment, it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself-no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where his only visitors were Aunt Petunia and three of his cousins; at least he got to visit the rest of the house. Lily and Petunia walked over and stood by Harry staring at the snake.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with theirs. Seeing the action, Margaret came and joined them.

_It winked_.

They all stared. Then they looked quickly around to see if anyone else was watching. They weren't. Together, they all winked back at the snake.

The snake jerked its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes towards the ceiling. It gave them a look that said quite plainly:

_"I get that all the time."_

"I know," Lily murmured through the glass, though all four children didn't know if the snake could hear them.

"It must be really annoying," Harry added.

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from anyways?" asked Petunia.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. They all peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and they all read on: This specimen was bred in captivity. "Oh, I see- so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind them made all four children jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE_ WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Margaret in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Margaret would have fallen hard on the floor if Harry and Petunia hadn't caught her. What happened next happened so fast no one saw how it happened- one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Margaret sat up and gasped, causing her cousins to look and gasp as well; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past, Harry, Lily, and Petunia could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thankssss, amigosssss."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Margaret knew, and the other three had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were back in the parking lot, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for the three cousins at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "They were talking to it, weren't you, Harry, Lily, Petunia?"

Uncle Vernon waited until his car was out of sight, before informing them: "Home- going- stay- Lily's cupboard- all four of you-no meals.", then pushing down the gas of Petunia's car, causing them to arrive home hours before Dudley and Aunt Petunia, as they had gone to do something more with Piers.

* * *

Harry laid down on Lily's bed much later, wishing he had a watch. No sooner had he wished that than Margaret whispered to the three others in the cramped cupboard, "I have a watch. I think they are all in bed now... My mum may still be awake, you know how she likes to clean the kitchen this time of night."

They had all lived with the Dursleys for at least almost ten years, ten miserable years, ever since Harry's parents had died in a head-on collision with Lily's and Petunia's parents. Sometimes, when the three of them strained their memories, they could just remember a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light, which flashed three times and a burning pain somewhere on their bodies- for Harry his head, for Lily, her hand, and for Petunia, the back of her neck. This, they agreed, was the crash, although none of them could come up with a plausible reason for all the green light. They couldn't remember their parents at all, although Margaret wanted to not know her parents. Her parents forbade her cousins from asking about their parents, and there were no pictures of them anywhere in the house.

When they had been younger, they had all four dreamed of some unknown relation taking them away, but it had never happened- the Dursleys were their only adult relatives left. Yet sometimes they thought, or perhaps hoped, that strangers in the street seemed to know them. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to the three cousins in a shop once, while they were out shopping with Aunt Petunia. After asking them, furiously, if they knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking woman dressed all in green had waved merrily to them once on a bus. A bald man in a vary long purple coat had actually shaken their hands in the street the other day, then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish whenever they tried to get a closer look.

At school, they had no one besides each other. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter, and those weird Evans girls, and that he was overprotective of his little sister, who was the one person that he did not harm for hanging out with the other three children. Nobody else wanted to mess with Dudley's gang, and as a result the four were loners, together.


	3. The Letters From No One

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned the four their longest-ever punishment. By the time they were officially allowed out of Lily's cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches. In addition, Harry's cupboard had become a mess of spider webs, causing Aunt Petunia to move Lily in with Petunia, whom, in their time in the cupboard had decided to go by her middle name, Audrey, as a protest against Aunt Petunia.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but, as Audrey liked to say, as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of the gang was all fine to go along with Dudley's favorite sport- Harry Hunting, although they were also fine with Evans Hunting and Margaret Hunting.

This was why they spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where Harry, at the very least, could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came, they would all go off to secondary school, and, for the first time ever, they wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Margaret would have gone as well, but she had over-passed the admissions test, and convinced her mother to not bribe the school into allowing her to attend, saying that there was a good science program at the public high school. Harry, Lily, and Audrey, on the other hand, had no choice- they were going to Stonewall High, the local public school, with Margaret. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it- it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he said.

The only person who Dudley was not amused to find out was going to Stonewall was his sister, whom he tried to convince that Smeltings was the best option for her, because then he could watch over her and make sure that she was safe. She would respond back every time that she would be too homesick, and that, if she went, they may not have a home to come back to, because she was the reason why Harry and Petunia (only her sister and two closest cousins had started calling her Audrey) had not blown up the house by now.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry, Lily, Audrey, and Margaret at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She gave them all a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years, and allowed them to watch television.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon gruffly said that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe that it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown up. Margaret was torn between glaring at her father and laughing at her brother, settling for the latter, seeing as the former was not as worthwhile. Lily and Harry didn't trust themselves to speak, as they both thought that they had already cracked several ribs each in trying to hold in their laughter. Audrey said that she couldn't believe that Dudley could look that stupid. Both her aunt and uncle ignored her and her laughter, which made it even harder for the two trying to be polite to not laugh.

* * *

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry and Lily came downstairs for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. Harry went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did when he asked her a question.

"Your new school uniform. I am taking Margaret to get hers today, along with Petunia and Lily to get theirs."

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just everyone else's when I've finished. We will dye Lily's and Petunia's tonight, when I get home."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table, where Lily was already waiting, having half-drug Audrey to Margaret's bedroom for her to drag her the rest of the way downstairs. He tried not to think of how he and his cousins were going to look on their first day of school at Stonewall High- like they were wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses due to the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual, and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper.

"Make Lily get it."

"Get the mail, Lily."

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Five things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and three letters- _a letter for Harry, a letter for Lily and a letter for Audrey._

Harry picked up his and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Or to Lily. Or to Audrey, although Petunia had once gotten a credit card offer. Who would? They had no friends, no other family- they didn't belong to the library (well, Lily did, but she never had overdue books), so they had never even gotten rude notes about overdue books. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard Under the Middle Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

At that moment, Audrey and Margaret came down the stairs. He handed Audrey the envelope with the name Ms. P.A. Evans written on it. Audrey dashed up the stairs.

Margaret watched curiously as Harry turned the envelope over, his hand trembling. They both saw the wax seal, bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Hurry up boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Margaret following him slowly, Harry went into the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, slipped Lily her letter and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Dad!" Dudley yelled suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon. Lily hid hers in her shirt.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster then a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment, it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness- Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten Harry, Margaret, Lily and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick. Seeing what could come, Lily and Margaret went out into the hall.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"_I_ want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's _mine_."

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let _me_ see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Dudley and Harry by the scruffs of their necks and threw them out into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address- how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching-spying-might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer...Yes, that's best...we won't do anything..."

"But-"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

"Yes- and we did succeed with two of them. Why didn't we succeed with _him_?"

Harry went upstairs, where both Lily and Audrey refused to tell Harry the contents of their letters.

* * *

That evening when he got home from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard (well, technically it was Lily's, but for now it was his, until the exterminator came and cleaned his out).

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was _not_ a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er- yes, Harry- about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... We think it might be nice if you moved in Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff to your room, now."

The Dursleys' house had six bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Margaret slept, one that Margaret technically had, but she kept trying to convince her parents to let Lily and Audrey have, one where Dudley slept and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry one trip to move everything he owned from the cupboard to the room. He sat down on the bed and looked around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The five month-old video camera was lying on top of a small working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite television program had been cancelled; there was a large birdcage which once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, and Margaret yelling at her mother to give Lily and Audrey her second room, or for her to give it to Dudley.

"I don't _want_ him in there...I _need_ that room...make him get out..." overlapped with Margaret's yells of, "Give them my second room, dang it! They need more space too! They are cramped into a single closet together, and Audrey is the same size as Harry! It is unjust! At least don't leave _me_ with a second bedroom when they don't even have one." Aunt Petunia sighed, and told the two girls that Margaret's second room was now theirs.

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be here. Today he'd rather be back in Lily's cupboard with his letter than up here without it.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shocked. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Lily and Audrey were wishing that they had talked a bit more about what to respond to their letters before sending them. They had both walked up to the mailbox with an acceptance letter for Hogwarts, hoping that there would be a wizard in the postal service to find them. They had planned on working together on another response after breakfast. Margaret was silent because she was in shock of how she had finally gotten what she wanted, and Dudley had not. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Margaret go and get it. They heard her walking down the hallway. Then she shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, the Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive-"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leaped from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Margaret to the ground to get the letter from her, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, Margaret winked at Harry when Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard- I mean, go to your room," he wheezed at Harry. "Margaret- go- just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard, and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

Meanwhile, Margaret was in her bedroom staring in shock at the letter she had hidden from her father. She had assumed that it be addressed to Harry as well, but now she was in a state of shock, as it was addressed to:

Ms. M. Dursley,

The Third-Smallest Bedroom,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey

Opening it, she found a letter telling her of her acceptance into Hogwarts. It also said that they would be sending a representative to explain everything to her and her family, and to respond back via post with a date for them to do so.

She went into Lily and Audrey's bedroom, and showed them her letter, to which they responded that she needed to respond back saying that she was available on July 31st, although they may be going to go on vacation sometime soon, as they did sometimes, sometimes unexpectedly. She then added that her cousin Harry had received two letters, but her father had torn them up before he had a chance to read them. She put it in there to make sure that they knew how receptive her family was to wizards and witches, adding the part that she had overheard about Lily and Petunia/Audrey having their magic "stamped out of them". Then Lily and Audrey swore her to secrecy around Harry, saying that they wanted him to find out for himself, as he would just think they were making it up.

* * *

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys or his cousins. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door-

"AAAAARRRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat- something _alive_!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want-" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes, as well as those of his three female cousins, whom had woken due to Uncle Vernon's yelling. They all three glared at Uncle Vernon, reminding Harry of the wink from Margaret the day before.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't _deliver_ them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

* * *

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises, which Lily and Audrey purposely made to watch him jump and hit his head at the most inopportune times.

* * *

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to _you_ this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement. The three girls looked at each other knowingly, just as they did whenever the letters were mentioned or seen.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today-"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys cowered in fear, and the girls all ran out of the room to their two bedrooms, but Harry leapt into the air, trying to catch one-

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes time ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the larger of the two cars, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his bag. Margaret and Lily were crammed into one seat together, as were Harry and Audrey. Dudley also took up parts of both their seats, in addition to his own. Harry and Audrey were more comfortable, as Harry let Audrey sit on top of him. Due to their similarity in size, Lily and Margaret couldn't figure out who would ride on whose lap, and therefore had crammed together into the last third of the seat left to them by Dudley.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then, Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off... Shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a double room with the girls. Both rooms had two twin beds with damp, musty sheets. Harry decided to sleep on the ground, and gave Audrey his bed. Dudley snored, but the other four children remained awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring at the lights of the passing cars, and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these up at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

* * *

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother and sister. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it _was_ Monday- and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television- then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's 11th birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun- last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of uncle Vernon's old socks. Lily and Audrey had worked with Margaret to make Harry a card, but that was all they had been able to do for him. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back, and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked him what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

After Audrey climbed out, Harry tried to climb out, but found that his legs had gone numb, and were as useful to him as a pair of toothpicks. Audrey helped him stand up, and soon Harry was wishing his legs were still numb, so that he would have a part of his body that he did not care if it was warm or cold outside.

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boats!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at two old rowboats bobbing in the iron-grey water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

"Ummm... Dad... The rations are more than just a bag of chips, right? Because those have no nutritional value, and I would be better served to eat that mushroom, growing from that tree right there, than I would be to eat a bag of chips. And I am _not_ getting in the boat if you are going to bring peanuts anywhere near me."

"Honey, don't worry. Why not you go pick that mushroom, just in case you don't like the food, and then get in the boat."

"Dad, I know from my mycology class that that particular mushroom is poisonous. But so are peanuts, for me, anyways."

"Margaret Charlotte Dursley, get in the boat now! You heard your father, now get in the boat. If he brought peanuts, I promise I will throw them into the sea and wash my hands in the saltwater, then throw _him_ into the sea. Now get in!"

Meekly, Margaret obeyed.

It was freezing in the boats. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of trail mix each and six bananas, and one apple. Margaret was livid, and went outside and screamed out to the empty sea, "HE BROUGHT ME NUTS! I NEED FOOD TO LIVE, AND I CAN'T BE AROUND NUTS!" Aunt Petunia took the trail mix, and threw it out one of the larger gaps, which could have been a window at some point. Uncle Vernon went back to the convenience store he must have gone to, and brought back a bag of chips for everyone. He tried to start a fire with the empty chip bags, but they just smoke and shriveled. Margaret was the lucky person with the apple, and so she chucked her apple core into the fire place, where it somehow managed to catch fire. Uncle Vernon added the banana peels, mourning the fact that he was now unable to shine his shoes in the morning. Soon, the fire died.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

The girls merely hoped that the representative from Hogwarts would be able to make it there in the storm.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa, and a smaller bed for Margaret on the mildewed chair. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and the other three children were left to find the softest bits of floor they could, and curl up under the three thinnest, most ragged blankets.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry, Lily, Audrey, and Margaret couldn't sleep. Harry shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were droned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he's be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now. The girls were busy behind Harry, drawing a birthday cake with eleven candles in the dirt on the ground.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... The girls silently got out the Hogwarts letters, because they had agreed that they would tell Harry on his birthday if he didn't get a letter by then...twenty...ten- maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him-three...two...one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

* * *

**Could people please review? I've gotten over 200 views for this story, yet I have had a total of 1 review from a guest reviewer by the name of giggles (thanks, by the way! If you had an account, I would have PM-ed you my thanks.) I do thank those who followed or favorited this story or me, but I would also appreciate it if you were to leave a review with your impression of the story so far.**

**Therefore, I would like it if you were to answer a question- Where do you think the four Evans cousins will end up? (I say Evans, because they are all technically Evans, as they all had one parent who had the last name of Evans when they were born, and therefore carry some of the Evans genes.) I mean, where do you think they will be Sorted? Will they all go the same place? Different places?**


	4. The Keeper of the Keys

**I just want to clarify what is going on, before getting into this chapter too far. Pretty much, Vernon and Petunia Dursley both think that Margaret, Lily, and Audrey have never received a Hogwarts letter. As it is a little redundant, I only stated that Lily's and Audrey's letters were addressed to them, but never specified what was in them. Assume that all three letters are the same as Harry's, except for Margaret's, which had the little add-on of the address of Hogwarts, telling her to send a letter with the day that would work best for her and her family to be told about her magic. I always thought that, even with the magic, if the letters weren't being received, then Dumbledore would have come instead of Hagrid, and tried to figure out a way around the abuse from the Dursleys (for that same reason, I have a slight problem with Mrs. Figg- she saw Harry was mistreated, yet she didn't tell anyone, besides maybe Dumbledore, who didn't really do anything to help...) All three girls have received their letters, and they are waiting to see if Harry will get his, because, really, the whole "You're a wizard!" thing might seem like a joke, considering the personalities of his cousins, and they want him to believe them. Therefore, they arrange for the teacher to come explain it all to Harry, but they were planning on explaining it to him if no one came.**

* * *

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands- now they knew what had been in the long, think package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you- I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then-

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant.

Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got you mom's eyes. Ahh- Lily! Petunia! How much yeh two've grown! Lily, lookin' just like yer aunt Lily! And Petunia- yehr the spittin' image of yehr father, but yeh've got yehr mother's height!"

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made out of rubber, and threw it into the corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. Lily and Audrey giggled quietly at him, and Margaret laughed out loud, not even trying to be polite and hide her scorn of her father.

"Anyway- Hary," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside packet of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _Happy Birthday Harry_ written on it in green icing.

Harry looked up at the giant. "Thank you."

"Who are you?" asked Audrey.

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm, then did the same to Lily, Audrey, and Margaret, whom introduced herself as "Margaret Dursley, Lily's, Audrey's, and Harry's cousin."

"Pleasure te meet yeh. What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no to sommat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it, covered in ash, and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and they all felt as though they had just sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of his pockets: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig of before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley, Margaret."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don't need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry. As fer Margaret- why would I wanna harm 'er? Honestly, don' worry 'bout neither o' them."

He passed the sausages to Harry, Lily, Audrey, and Margaret, who immediately split the last two in half, so they all had equal amounts. They were all so hungry that they had never tasted anything so wonderful, but Harry still couldn't take his eyes off of the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, and the girls seemed to understand what was going on, he said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er- no," said Harry.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Margaret said quickly.

"_Sorry?_" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't getting' yer letters, but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know about Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh three never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Lily.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now jus' wait one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that these children- these children!-don't know nothin' abou'- about ANYTHNG?"

Harry though this was going a little far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad. Audrey obviously thought the same thing.

"I know _some_ things," she said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

"Audrey happens to be a very good musician." added Lily. "Margaret happens to adore science. Harry... well, Harry's not a _bad_ student, but he's definitely not quite the top 5% in the nation- that'll be me, one day..."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About _our_ world, I mean. _Your _world. _My_ world. _Yer parents'_ world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Lily.

"But yeh must know about yer mom, dad, aunt 'nd uncle," he said. "I mean, they're _famous_. You're _famous_."

"What? My-my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Or mine?"

"I know mine aren't- I mean, look at them."

"Yeh don't know... Yeh don' know..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Audrey with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell those children anything, especially since it will only upset two of them!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from them all these years?"

"Kept _what_ from us?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer head, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry- yer a wizard. Lily, Petunia, Margaret- all three o' yeh are witches."

"I hope you mean the magical variety, not the nonmagical variety that means something demeaning." That was all anyone said, and that was Margaret trying to deal with the truth. Other than that, there was silence in the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a _what?_" gasped Harry.

"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good 'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' yer cousins, too. They'll be really good at magic too, what with their parents, and all yer great-great-great-great grandparents. An' I reckon it's about time yeh read yer letter."

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green ink to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, _

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks, and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl- a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl- a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth, he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_,

_Given Harry his letter._

_Taking all four of them to buy their things tomorrow._

_Weather's horrible. Hope you're well._

_Hagrid._

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door and threw the rather reluctant owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going. None of them are, especially not my daughter," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like to see a great Muggle like you stop any of them," he said.

"A what?" said Harry, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. And it's your bad luck you grew up in a family of three of the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took them in we'd a put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard indeed! Witches- please!"

"You _knew_?" said Lily. "You _knew_ we were- well, witches and wizards?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "_Knew!_ Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted siblings being what they were? Oh, they got their letters, just like that, and disappeared off to that- that _school_- and came home every vacation with their pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw them for what they were- freaks! But for my mother and father, on no, it was Lily this and Harold that, they were proud of having a witch and a wizard in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then they met the Potters at school, and they left and got married and had you three, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as-as-_abnormal- _and then, if you please, they went and got themselves blown up and we got landed with you three!"

Harry had gone very white, as had Lily and Audrey. Audrey found her voice first and said, "Blown up? You said they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? How could a car crash kill Audrey an' Harold Evans? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name, and the names of his two cousins, who know just as much as he does about all this!"

"But why? What happened?" Lily asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, I dunno if I'm the right person ter tell yeh- but someone's gotta- yeh can't go off to Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh- mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great mystery, parts of it..."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - a person called- but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-"

"Who?"

"Well- I don't like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Audrey- wha' happened ter yer given name, Petunia?- people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down? And, as for what happened to my given name- _she_ happened. I now hate the name Petunia with a burning passion." Audrey stated.

"Nah- can't spell it. All right- _Voldemort_." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too- some were afraid, some jus wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, alright. Dark days... Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course some stood up to him- an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day, the Potter Twins! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. 'Course, neither o' 'em were prefects- that were the Evans Twins.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where the Potters was all living, and yeh had the Evans over fer the twins' first birthdays, on Halloween ten years ago. You all was just a year old. He came ter yer house an'-an'-"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad- knew your four parents, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find- anyway...

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then- an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing- he tried to kill you three, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that cut on yeh? Those aren't no ordinary cuts. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh- took care of yer parents, and yer aunt and uncle too. Yer house, even- but it didn' work on yeh three, an' that's why yehr all famous. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you three, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts, the other Evanses, the las' o' the Peverells, even- an' you three was only babies, an' you all lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before- and he remembered something else for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh. Looking at the girls, he could see that they now could remember more of their first birthdays as well.

Hagrid was watching them sadly.

"Took yeh three from the ruined house meself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry and Lily jumped; they had forgotten that the Dursleys were still there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy, girls," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured- and as for all this about your parents, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion- asked for all they got, getting mixed up in the wrong crowds, with these wizarding types- just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley- I'm warning you- one more word..."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

The four children, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry, I mean You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill yeh. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful- why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don't believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came out of kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about yeh three finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on- _I_ dunno what it was, no one does- but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry, Lily and Audrey with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but all three of them, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. Wizards? Them? How could they possible be? They'd spent their entire lives being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; the only person who was ever nice to all three of them was Margaret, with whom the other three Dursleys had a love-hate relationship; if they really were witches and a wizard, why hadn't the Dursleys been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock them in their cupboards? If they'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, why was Dudley and his gang able to beat them up every day with impunity?

"Hagrid," Lily said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I could be a witch." Audrey and Harry nodded vigorously in agreement.

To their surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

They all looked into the fire. Now they came to think of it... every odd thing that had ever made their aunt and uncle furious with them had been when they had been upset, or angry, or worried... chased by Dudley's gang, they had somehow found themselves out of their reach... dreading going back to school with that ridiculous hair cut, Harry'd managed to grow it back... and the very last time Dudley had hit any of them, they had all gotten their revenge, without even realizing that they had done so. Hadn't they set the boa constrictor on Dudley and Piers?

They all looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at them.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard, the Evans twins, not witches- you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" he hissed. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters, and they need all sorts of rubbish- besides, the girls never got any letters, they can't go- spell books, and wands and-"

"If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' to Hogwarts, Audrey an' Harold Evans' daughters from goin' to Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their names've been down since the day they was born. They're off to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and their cousin is comin' with 'em, as I think she is going to be just as good as they are. Seven years there, and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER-" he thundered, "INSULT-ALBUS-DUMBLEDORE-IN-FRONT-OF-ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley- there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and, the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. Lily, Petunia and Margaret all began laughing, clutching their sides.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them, after looking at Margaret, who shook her head.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at the girls under his eyebrows, then looked at Harry.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm-er-not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters ter yeh an' stuff- one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job-"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Audrey.

"Oh, well- I was at Hogwarts meself but I-er-got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. Bu' Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've lots to do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his coat and threw it at Audrey and Lily.

"You two can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets. Harry, here, take this blanket. I'll take the couch, and Margaret gets the chair. Everyone comfortable? Good."

* * *

**Thanks for reading this far! I still would like reviews, but thanks again to Giggles, and to Guest- that makes three reviews! I would still like more reviews, if anyone who is following the story happens to have something to say.**

**Therefore, I am going to leave you with some questions:**

**What do you think is going to happen when the four cousins go to Diagon Alley?**

**Where do you think the four will end up? (I'm holding off on the cover, as that will sort of give away where they all end up...)**

**And then, about character development- What do you make of the three girls? Please let me know if I should make more OCs, or just leave it at the four I already have (you'll be meeting him on the Hogwarts Express.)**

**Also, have you noticed any symbolism, or foreshadowing (for that matter), with the names? Can anyone guess, for example, who Audrey will eventually marry?**

**Please do review, I won't post another chapter until I have six reviews total. I know people are reading it- even a smiley face would help. I am even OK with flames, although, if someone does flame my story, I would like it if they would give constructive criticism in addition to saying that the story is rubbish.**

**But, thank you for reading! If you review, tied to an account, I will read your story, and review it, unless I have no wish to immerse myself in the fandom of that particular story, at which point I will notify you, and thank you over PM.**


	5. Diagon Alley

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me that Audrey, Lily, Margaret and I are going to a school for witches and wizards. When I open my eyes, I'll be home in my cupboard."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

_And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door_, Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right! I'm going!" That sounded like Audrey's voice- out of the three of them, she was the one who least appreciated being woken. He sat up, and the blankets fell off of him. Audrey and Lily were both awake as well, and it seemed like Margaret was trying to fall back asleep. None of the Dursleys had woken up yet.

The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Lily was scrambling to her feet, so happy that she seemed to be floating.

"It's not a dream! Audrey! Harry! It's no dream!" She then went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper in top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

The three children tried to wave the owl off, but it snapped its beak fiercely at Harry and carried on savaging the coat. It tried to scratch Audrey.

"Hagrid!" said Audrey loudly. "There's an owl-"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing _but_ pockets- bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of strings, peppermint humbugs, teabags... Finally, Lily found a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Lily counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so she could put them into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, kids, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter to London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Lily was turning over the wizarding coins and looking at them. She had just thought of something that made her feel as though the happy balloon inside her had just popped.

"Umm... Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money-"

"-and you heard Uncle Vernon last night-"

"He won't pay for us to go learn magic." By now, Margaret had given up on sleep, and was joining them at the door, glancing at her watch, which said that it was about 6:30 in the morning, which was about an hour before her father woke up on weekends, or vacation, or if his alarm clock stopped functioning, as it sometimes did.

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed-"

"They didn't keep their gold in the house! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold- an' I wouldn't say no ter a bit o' Harry's birthday cake neither."

"Wizards have _banks_?"

"Just the one. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"_Goblins_?" asked Lily.

"Yeah- so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, kids. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe- 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you- getting things from Gringotts-knows he can trust me, see.

"Got everything? Come on then." Hagrid paused, and took out a bit of parchment from his pockets. He wrote a quick, yet legible, note to the Dursleys, telling them he would see to it the kids got back to Privet Drive. Well, he said he would see them to the train from London. It would take them to Surrey, where they could walk home. They told him that the train station was only 1 or 2 kilometers from their home and near their school, so they didn't mind walking home from the station. Still, Hagrid would leave it up to Dursley to pick them up.

Harry and Lily followed Hagrid out the door, onto the rock, where Audrey and Margaret were already standing. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boats Uncle Vernon had hired were still there, both of them filled with water from the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for a third boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid as he dumped the water out of both of the boats.

"_Flew?_"

"Yeah- but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in one of the boats, leaving the other boat for the Dursleys. Harry, Lily, and Margaret were still all staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying. Audrey was having no trouble with imagining it, and kept snickering to herself about it.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Lily another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter- er- speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentioning it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Lily scowled at him, but said nothing. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Lily asked.

"Spells- enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way- Gringotts is miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on sommat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, _The Daily Prophet_. Lily and Margaret had both learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while reading the newspaper, but it was very difficult, especially as Margaret had a huge question, and Lily had hundreds of smaller ones.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Lily asked, before she could stop herself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic _do_?" asked Harry.

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"_Why?_ Blimey, Margaret, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

"Umm... Hagrid... How am I supposed to pay for my stuff for school? You heard my father- he doesn't want me going to Hogwarts."

"You are an Evans in addition to a Dursley, Margaret-Eileen Charlotte. Even your eyes say that! Did yeh think th' Potters spent all their money that they inherited from the Evans? Nah... You are the descendant of several generations of Squibs of the Evans family- yer family is even more ancient than the Peverells. In yer family though, it's about a 25% chance that, if yer parents don't have magic, that yeh will. But if yeh do, then yer really powerful. Yer gold is safe in Gringotts, but yeh haven't even turned seventeen yet. That's when yeh can access the real good stuff. None of yeh have ta work a day in yer lives, if yeh don't want to."

"What's a Squib?"

"Sorta the opposite of a Muggleborn- them as was born into a wizarding family, and don't have magic. Often, they go off to the Muggle world, and try as best they can to fit in. Sometimes their children have magic, and lots of it. Sometimes they're a Squib. They tend ter soon forget that their family ever had magic, ter begin with. Yer great-grandparents were all Squibs, but they never told anyone about our world- didn't even know until the weddings that they was all Squibs. Didn' mention it again, ter anybody. Maybe yer grandparents, but I doubt it. Yer grandparents never mentioned it ter yer parents, that's fer sure."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded his newspaper as the four children clambered out, Hagrid following them. They climbed up the steps onto the street.

Passerby stared a lot at Hagrid as they all walked through the small town to the station. None of the children could blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as everyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things and saying loudly, "See that? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Lily, panting a bit as she ran to keep up, "did you say there are _dragons_ at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd _like_ one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid- here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Audrey so she could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letters, kids?" he asked as he counted stitches.

They all took the parchment envelopes out of their pockets.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

They all unfolded their second piece of paper and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Uniform:

First-year students will require:

1) Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2) One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3) One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4) One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry nametags

Course books:

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

By Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_

By Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_

By Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_

By Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

By Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

By Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

By Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

By Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad OR a small mammal (no nifflers, fairies, or pixies)

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" Margaret wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

Harry, Lily and Audrey had never been to London before. Margaret had, but had never seen any shops that sold spellbooks, although, admittedly, her mother did not let her wander around London unattended ever. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not going about it the way he usually did. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all the four children had to do was keep close to him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles below them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some joke cooked up by the Dursleys? If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor (besides, of course, Margaret), he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, none of them would have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only the five of them could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered them inside.

* * *

Meanwhile, Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia were climbing into the other boat. Hagrid had left them a note that said he would see Harry, Lily, Audrey and Margaret to the train station near their home. While they were rowing back, Vernon and Petunia had a heated argument. Vernon blamed Petunia's bad blood (They were _your_ siblings after all) for ruining his baby girl. Vernon didn't show it, but he really did love and was proud of Margaret; at least, he had been. He just did not know how to show his affection toward a daughter. He had wanted a son, but having a daughter frightened him, and while he did his best, he just wasn't very good at showing love toward his daughter, who was a mystery to him. Dudley he could figure out. Margaret was just confusing and he did not like confusing. When they got back to the shore, Vernon and Petunia were shouting at each other and when Vernon made a fist, Dudley stepped in. "If you hit mum, I'm telling Aunt Marge!"

Vernon paled. His sister was big like him but she was far from lazy! One thing she did not tolerate was husbands who hit their wives. When one of her best friends showed up with a large bruise on her face, Marge went and broke both of her husband's arms. The guy was so afraid of her that he refused to press charges and insisted that he fell. When Vernon got married, his father sat him down and told him that a real man never raised his hand to his wife, and that if he ever did, he would find himself in a world of hurt. When their father died, Marge pulled him aside and told him that just because their father was gone did not mean he could even think about hitting Petunia.

_"And if you do hit her, I will personally castrate you just like my bulldogs!" said Marge. He could see her angry face, even at the thought of him mistreating Petunia._ And Marge could do it too. She was a very talented veterinarian. She had her own clinic and raised bulldogs that were known far and wide for being dogs with good breeding. She doted on Petunia like the little sister she never had. She also doted on Margaret more than on Dudley, because Margaret was her namesake. No, Marge was not a good woman by any means; she did not like Harry and she tried to like Lily and Audrey for Margaret, but she would never abuse them. If Marge found out about some of the things that went on at Number Four, Vernon could join a choir…as a soprano.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron, for a famous place, was rather dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Lily's shoulder and making her knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at the four children, "are these- can this be-?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... Petunia Evans...Lily Evans... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward them, and seized each of their hands, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, Ms. and Ms. Evans, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at them. Audrey was looking at Hagrid like she wanted to tell him to get them out of there, but couldn't think of a polite way to do so. Lily seemed as perplexed as Harry, and Margaret had retreated into the shadows with Hagrid, a look of relief on her face. The old woman was puffing her pipe without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

There was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, the three cousins found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last..."

"So proud, Ms. Evans, I'm just so proud..."

"...Delighted, Ms. Evans, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Lily, as Dedalus Diggle's hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to us once in a shop."

"She remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? She remembers me!"

They shook hands again and again- Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Children, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter, E-E-Evans," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping each of their hands in turn, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that any of you n-need it, eh?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep the children to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At least, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on- lots ter buy. Come on, children."

Doris Crockford shook Margaret's hand one last time (the other three had taken a moment to introduce her to the crowd, and people were just as excited to meet the relative of the three "Children Who Lived" as they were to meet said children), and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at the children.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh- mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bi' o' trouble with a hag- never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject- now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? All four children were beyond amazed. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up...two across..."he muttered. "Right, stand back, children."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he touched quivered- it wriggled- in the middle, a small hole appeared- it grew wider and wider- a second later, they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at the amazement evident on the faces of all four children. They stepped through the archway. Lily looked quickly over her shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into a solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons- All Sizes- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-Stirring-Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

All four children wished they each had about eight more eyes. They turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside the Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium- Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys about their age had their noses pressed up against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the Nimbus Two Thousand- fastest ever- hope I can play at Hogwarts someday..." There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments that Audrey had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was-

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the stone white steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Lily, Margaret, and Harry, who were all about the same height. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there_

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and the children made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come to take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's and Ms. and Ms. Lily and Petunia Evans' safe, and the Evans' ancestral vault."

"You have their key, sir? And the identification required for the Evans' vault?"

"Got them here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying out his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose, as did Margaret, who quickly looked elsewhere. Harry, Lily and Audrey watched the goblins to the left and right of them weighing rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got them," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key and one signed bit of parchment.

The goblin looked at them closely, comparing the parchment to something in his book.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to all three vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and the children followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Harry! If he had wanted us to know, he would have told us so!" scolded Lily.

"Whatever you say, _Mum_." responded back Harry.

"Lily's right, can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously, hiding a small, sad smile. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble was surprised, as were Lily and Audrey, who were expecting even grander things. Margaret looked like she had expected this sort of thing. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and two, joined, small carts came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in, the four children in the front, and Hagrid and Griphook in the back, Hagrid with some difficulty. The moment they were in, they all sped off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept his eyes wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late- they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and the floor.

"I never know," Harry called back to Hagrid over the noise of the carts, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Stalactites are the ones that come from the ceiling, Harry. Stalagmites come out of the ground- remember, c comes before m, and I think I remember reading somewhere that stalactites some out of the ceiling before stalagmites show up because of gravity pulling down on the calcified water, causing it to drip, but the water doesn't drip up, so it takes longer for the latter to form." Lily continued rambling on and on about stalagmites and stalactites, but the other three children tuned her out; they were used to her ramblings.

Harry noticed that Hagrid did look very green, and when the carts stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from shaking. The sudden stop also made Lily fall silent, and stare at the door with the other three children.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry, Lily, Margaret, and Audrey gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. Some precious and semiprecious gems. Lily thought she might have seen pictures of some of the jewelry in there, pictures of what artists thought some of the crown jewels looked like before they were pawned by Queen Elizabeth I.

"All yours- and this is just the beginning. Yeh have another three vaults each that yeh get when yeh've turned 17." Hagrid smiled.

All theirs- it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from them faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry, Lily and Audrey cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a rather large fortune belonging to the three of them, buried deep under London.

Hagrid helped them fill up their money bags.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe fer yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Evans vault now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook. "And we will go first to vault seven hundred and thirteen, the Evans' vault is even deeper than that of the Lestranges' and the Blacks', almost as deep as that of the Peverells."

They were going even deeper now, and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled around tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over to try to see what was down at the bottom, but Lily groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of the neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you see if anyone's inside?" Audrey asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin. "We just checked this one yesterday, too."

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least- but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask. Audrey, however, decided to try one last time.

"What is that, Hagrid?" she asked innocently.

"Nothin' yeh need ter worry 'bout, Audrey." responded Hagrid shakily.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don' talk to me while we ride this thing, it'll make me sick." said Hagrid.

It almost made Harry sick. That was how much speed they picked up on the way to the Evans' vault. When they got there, Griphook told them that they also had to put their hands on the door, as he stroked it.

The moment they all did so, minus Hagrid, the vault opened, and they found a huge room full of various coins, some of which did not look like modern currency.

"All of yeh can pull stuff outa this vault- it's all yours, all your family's." Hagrid then helped Margaret fill her bag with coins, and then they each got to pick one thing out of there that they wanted to keep. Margaret found a wand, which, when she was within a few feet of, it emitted golden sparks. She picked it up hesitantly, and the moment her hand touched it, she seemed to glow for a half a second, beaming at her cousins. Lily chose a book called _Tales of Beetle the Bard_, which looked rather old and on the left-hand pages had the stories written in a different language (sort of like that No Fear Shakespeare that most English teachers seem to hate). Audrey found a necklace with a small hourglass that was filled with flakes of what seemed to be a ruby, that was the pendant of the necklace. The chain was gold, with a clasp that had two small rubies on it, as well as a strange symbol that looked like an A with a circle in the middle, except that the horizontal line on the A was vertical, like an angle bisector, and there was the circle around the line. The pendant had a circular frame around the hourglass, and the circular frame had words etched on it in the same language as the words in Lily's book. Harry chose a silvery cloak, and put it on, only to find that his whole body disappeared, except for his head, as he did not put the hood up ever.

Then they all climbed back into the cart. They took a different route up to the main floor of the bank, and found themselves ushered through a door that was on the other side of the room than they had gone through.

They stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. None of them knew where to run first, now that they each had a bag full of money. None of them knew how many Galleons there were to a pound, but they didn't have to, to know that each of them was holding the most money that they had in their whole life- more money than even Dudley, both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's favorite child, had ever had. **(For the record, it's somewhere close to $7.09 USD to a Galleon. According to ****_Quidditch Through The Ages_****)**

"Might as well get yer uniforms," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did look a bit sick, so they nodded yes. When the children nodded, he pointed to the Ice Cream parlor and told them to meet him there after they were done with their robes. Together the four children entered Madam Malkin's shop, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she said, when Lily started to speak. "Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on the stool next to him, after directing the girls to another fitting room, telling them she would be with them shortly. She slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it up to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying books, and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have _you_ got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," said Harry again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I_ do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something more interesting.

"Do you know what the houses are?" asked the pale boy.

"No," said Harry. So the Pale boy launched into an explanation of the four houses.

"Gryffindor is for the brave, but they are also known as being very foolish. Ravenclaw is for the smart, but they are also bookwormish and can be cold. Slytherin is for the ambitious and cunning but they are also known as being dark. Hufflepuff is known for being hardworking and loyal, but they have a poor reputation for being the house that takes all the misfits. I think I will be in Slytherin because it is expected of me. Everyone has some of all four houses, but the house you go into is where you fit in most because your traits are strongest of those houses.

The pale boy looked up and saw Hagrid.

"I say, look at that man!" he said.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy did not.

"Oh, I've heard of him, but it wasn't very good things. I don't know him though," said the pale boy, "Father says he's a savage and that the Headmaster is a fool to trust him."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"_Do_ you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Who are the girls? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead, and the girls are my cousins," said Harry shortly. I didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they? And so are your cousins, right?"

"They were a witch and a wizard, it that's what you mean. And why else would my cousins be buying school robes?"

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Harry went out to tell Hagrid that the girls still needed to be fitted, and then stood outside, looking around, to wait for them to be done. The boy had finished, and had left in the time he was outside, talking with Hagrid. Harry started to walk toward the ice cream parlor with the girls, when he heard someone calling them.

"Hey, Hey"  
Harry turned; it was the blonde kid.  
"Look, I...Um...well you see what I said in there, it is mainly what my Father thinks and wants me to think. I don't know if I believe that. I don't know what I believe, but my father won't tolerate disagreement. Well, he would... If I was fine with being disinherited. My mother does not believe as he does, but even she has to pretend to agree. Um...well, I will see you at Hogwarts," and the boy rushed off toward the bookstore.

The girls had heard the whole conversation in Madam Malkin's, and Audrey was indignant that he had even responded to the boy, as he seemed like the kind of guy who would pretend to be your friend, and then, the moment he stops benefitting from the relationship, would leave you behind to face any trouble he had gotten you into alone. His explanation did give Audrey pause and made her wonder if, perhaps, he was telling the truth about not knowing what to believe.

All four were rather quiet while eating their ice cream after they had finished. Hagrid had made sure there was nothing with nuts anywhere near Margaret, for which the four children were grateful.

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," they lied in unison. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Margaret cheered up a little when she found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, Harry asked, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey! I keep forgettin' how little yeh know- not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make us feel worse," Audrey groaned. They told Hagrid about the boy from Madam Malkin's.

"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in-"

"None of yeh are _from_ a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh _were_- he's grown up knowin' yer names if his parents are wizarding folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line of what most people think o' as Muggles! Look what she had fer a sister, what Margaret has fer parents!"

"So _what is_ Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like-like soccer in the Muggle world- everyone follows Quidditch- played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls- sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Audrey gloomily. Harry nodded in agreement. Lily and Margaret just stood there thinking about what the boy in the shop said about the four houses.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's few witches and wizards who went bad who weren't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one. Me, well, I was a Gryffindor. That's the House for them as do without thinkin'. The other House is Ravenclaw, where all the smart, logical people go."

"Vol-, sorry- You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

"Lils, bet you'll be in Ravenclaw!"

"Yeah? Well, then, Margaret, I bet you'll be in... One moment, I have to research these Houses more fully. Oh, look! A bookstore! They'll probably have a book with the information I'd be looking for!"

They bought the school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where they shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps covered in silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who Margaret wasn't sure could read, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dudley, who was riding back to the house in the backseat of the car, was thinking. His sister, Margaret, his most favorite person in the whole-wide world, besides himself of course, was magical. He began to doubt some of the things he had been taught. After all, he'd been told that Harry, Lily, and Pet…Audrey were all freaks because of the freaky stuff that happened around them. Margaret, however, was his baby sister. It was his duty to look out for her, to love her and to believe that she was a good person no matter what everyone around her said. Now, the more that he thought about it, the more he became almost sure that if Margaret had magic, Harry, Lily, and Pet…Audrey had magic, then surely magic could not be that bad; maybe magic was a good thing. After all, Margaret had magic so some people who have magic must be good. He needed to talk to Aunt Marge. Talking to Aunt Marge was good, because she usually just listened to him and told him that he needed to think for himself instead of blindly believing whatever his father and mother said. That's what Granpa Dursley taught them both to do.

* * *

Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from _Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle World unless yeh have a good enough reason," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn't work any of them curses yet, yeh'd need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level." Hagrid's words didn't stop Lily from silently purchasing that book, and another, _It's Easy! Magic-Free, Fail-Safe Pranks for the Underage Witch_.

When no one was looking, she saw the blonde haired boy push a book toward her. It was titled, "Great Discoveries of our Age" and under it was a book called, "Purebloods and the Old Ways," which was what interested her the most. He nodded to her then quickly slipped away toward an older blonde haired gentleman who was most likely his father by the superior and snobbish look on his face.

Hagrid wouldn't let Audrey buy a solid gold cauldron, or Lily buy a titanium one, either ("It says pewter on yer list"; Lily argued this, and asked if she could just buy both, to which Hagrid relented after she listed her reasons, which included higher melting point and lighter), but they all got nice sets of scales for weighing potions ingredients and collapsible brass telescopes. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floors; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for four sets of the basic potions supplies, the four children explored, finding strange things like silver unicorn horns, for twenty-one Galleons each and miniscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop), but what most fascinated Lily was the gillyweed, which she bought a few ounces of.

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list, which he had borrowed from Harry, again.

"Just yer wands left- oh yeah, an' I still haven't gotten yeh birthday presents."

All four children felt themselves go red.

"You don't have to-"

"We really are fine-"

"You being here for us is a great present in itself-"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animals. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at- an' cats make me sneeze. I'll get yeh each an owl, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

Thirty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Each child now carried a large cage. Harry had gotten a snowy owl, Lily a phoenix that had flown over to her the moment they had walked into the store and refused to leave her alone, Audrey a bird that was a new species, a mix between an owl and an augurey, and Margaret had managed to convince Hagrid to get her a cat when a black and grey striped cat came up to her and began weaving between her legs. He agreed because the cat did not make him sneeze, indicating it was part kneazle. All of their animals, but for Lily's phoenix, were fast asleep. None of the children could stop stammering their thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect none of yeh, 'sides maybe Margaret, had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now- only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand... this is what all three children had been waiting for, and had been part of the reason why Margaret had felt the need to pick up the wand in the Evans' vault.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. The children all felt as though they had entered a very strict library; Harry swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Everyone else jumped, including Hagrid, whose chair made a loud crunching noise. He quickly stood up.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Margaret awkwardly. The other three children waved.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd been seeing you three soon. As for you, what is your name? I recall every single wand I have ever sold, I recall their face as well, and nothing about you seems to match up. You look much like a Muggle that came into this shop, accompanied by Lily and Harold Evans, and Severus Snape..."

"I am Margaret Dursley. I am a member of the Evans family, and would be their niece."

"Ah, yes... Would you allow me to see your wand?" She held it forward, and he inspected it.

"Ahh, yes, Hazel, 11 inches, unicorn hair, this belonged to Ignotus Peverell, brother of the creator of the Elder Wand, this wand was created by my great-great-great, and a few more, grandfather. And you say that this wand feels natural to you?" Margaret nodded, looking confused. The moment that she did, Ollivander began to mutter to himself. Audrey got annoyed and asked him what was wrong. "Nothing... it is just rather curious, as this wand is unyielding, as I can recall an incident that my great-great grandfather witnessed and wrote about- this wand, if I recall correctly, did not allow his son to inherit it, as was the custom back then, and instead disappeared. Wherever did you find it?"

"In the Evans vault at Gringotts..." With those words said, Ollivander whipped around and said to Harry:

"Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivaner had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief and Lily's annoyance, spotted Lily.

"Lily Evans. If I knew no better, I would have thought you to be your aunt the day she came in here to buy her first wand. Exactly like her you look. I truly do regret that I sold the wand that took her and your parents away from the three of you. Hello, Petunia Evans. You look exactly like your father, if he had been a girl. A wand of rowan, ten and a quarter inches long was what chose him. Unyielding. As for your mother- well, eleven inches of elder, also unyielding, a strange combination, that, considering the history behind elder wands." He sighed and again shook his head, this time catching sight of Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly rather stern.

"Er- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid shuffling his feet. "I've still go' the pieces though," he added brightly.

"But you don't _use_ them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. The children all noticed he gripped his pink umbrella rather tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now, Mr. Potter. Ms. Evans. Ms. Evans. Let me see." He pulled out a long measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er- well, Lily and I are right-handed. Audrey is left-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, children. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two dragons, unicorns or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own, and realized that there were two others doing the same to Audrey and Lily. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measures crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once. He handed it to Lily, who waved it, but he snatched it away again and handed it to Audrey, who it again did not work for.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"

Audrey tried, but she had barely raised the wand when it was snatched away and given to Lily to try, then Harry.

"No, no- here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Audrey tried. And tried. Lily tried. And tried. Harry tried. And tried. They had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customers, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect wands here somewhere- I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped, Audrey looked upset that she had yet to find one, Margaret was still staring at her wand, and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well..." But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Lily holding a wand, raising it at the exact moment that Mr. Ollivander cried, "No!" She brought it down quickly.

He looked up at her.

"However did you get up to that platform, my dear?"

"I jumped when Harry's wand emitted the light, and next thing I knew, I was up here, with my hand on this box."

"Curious... Wave it, please..." Lily complied, and a burst of sparks like Harry's came out the end of it. Mr. Ollivander helped her down by pushing the ladder over to her, and she climbed down, clutching the box tightly.

"Ahh... I remember that one... Eleven inches, willow, phoenix feather, very rigid in who it chooses- my father made that wand, and no one has come along for it until now. I was beginning to think that it was merely a trick wand, but that cannot be... Now, as for what I was saying... No, it can wait. We must find Petunia a wand, then I will tell you... However, this gives me an idea." With those words, he began muttering to himself, "eleven inches, phoenix feather... eleven inches, phoenix feather... maybe yew instead..." He came back with close to twenty wands.

"Here, try this one... Yew and phoenix feather, strong but not unbreakable, eleven inches." Audrey tried it, but she had barely touched it when he shouted, "No! No, no, try this one- cedar and phoenix feather, eleven inches, another of the last ones that my father made..." Audrey raised the wand, and sparks like the ones from Harry's and Lily's wands came out the tip.

"Curious... Curious indeed... These two wands were the last two my father ever made, and Harry's was one of the first two that I ever made... The other, I am sorry to say, has shaped your lives so that you are different people... Yew, with a core of a phoenix feather... No Ollivander wand is exactly like another, but many are similar... Sometimes we use the same animal for a core, but only once have used the same one for four different cores... Stranger yet that the other core, the last core, was bought about fifty years ago... Curious... curious...curious..."

"Sorry," said Lily, "but _what's_ curious?"

Mr. Ollivander looked at the three children standing before him. As he wrapped the three wand boxes in brown paper, he said in a quiet voice, "I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every single wand. It so happens that the same phoenix gave three tail feathers for your three wands. It also gave one more, just one more. It is very curious that you each should be destined for one of its brothers when it gave Harry that scar, when it gave Lily that scar, and Petunia that scar."

All three children swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you three- in fact, all four of you, for you, Ms. Dursley, have found a wand that many thought had disappeared forever... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things- terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't alone in wondering if he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. They paid a total of 21 gold Galleons for their wands and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from the shop. He gave them one last tip: never put your wand in your back pocket; put them in the special wand pocket in your robes. If they don't have one, return to Madam Malkin's and ask her to add one.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as the group made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. None of them spoke at all as they walked down the road; they didn't even notice how much people gawked at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with two owls, a phoenix, and a cat asleep in their cages on their owner's laps. Up another escalator, out into Paddington Station; none of them realized where they were until Hagrid tapped them on their shoulders.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.

He bought Harry a hamburger, Lily and Audrey both hot dogs, and for Margaret, he bought a cheese sandwich, as the hamburger and hot dogs both had somehow come in contact with peanuts. They sat down on some plastic seats to eat them. They all kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You guys all right? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

They weren't sure they could explain. Hagrid had just helped Harry have the best birthday of his life- and yet- something just seemed so _strange_ to all of them, but they couldn't explain how.

"Everyone thinks we're special," Harry replied at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but we know nothing about magic. How can they expect great things? We're famous, and we can't remember anything about why we are- and people do the same to Margaret, when we explain she's our cousin. None of _us_ know what happened when Vol-, sorry- I mean, the night our parents died."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows, he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Harry. None of yeh need ter worry. You'll all learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerselves. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts- I did- still do, 'smatter of fact."

Hagrid helped them onto the train that would take them back to the Dursleys, then handed Lily an envelope.

"Yer tickets fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September- King's Cross- it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with one o' yer owls- they know where ter find me... See yeh soon."

The train pulled out of the station. Harry and Lily both wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; Lily managed to catch a glimpse of him, and then she blinked and he was gone, at the exact moment that Harry stood up to try to catch a better view.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you to everyone who has read this up to this point. I would like to extend a very special thank you to my new beta, RUGoing2writethat, for helping me to create this chapter as it is in this form. Please leave a review if this story has made any sort of impression upon you- I like to know what I can do better, as well as your predictions for the rest of the story!**


	6. Journey From Platform 9 34

The last month was the Dursleys wasn't fun for any of the four wizarding children. True, now Dudley was so scared of them, he wouldn't stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut any of them in any rooms or cupboards, force them to do anything, or shout at them- in fact, they didn't speak to any of them at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair occupied by any of the children were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it also got slightly depressing, especially since Margaret wanted to tell her mother about all that she learned.

They all started to hang out in Margaret's room, with their new pets for company. Margaret's cat did not seem to mind the fact that there were birds in the room with it. Margaret had decided to name her Lisette de Lapin, after a witch that she read about in _A History of Magic_. Harry had decided to call his owl Hedwig, another name pulled from that same book. Lily named her phoenix Amata, after a character in the book she had gotten out of Gringotts, as the character was searching for an end to her grief. Lily was grieving for her parents, and aunt and uncle, as the recent trip to Diagon Alley had reminded her of how much she missed them, having never known them. She was hoping that, like Amata, she would be able to find a parent of sorts while at Hogwarts. Audrey named her pet Thanatos, after the Ancient Greek god of the dead.

They all found their school books at least mildly interesting- Even Audrey, who hated reading, enjoyed their textbooks, although Lily had them memorized. Audrey and Lily worked together to figure out new spells to prank Dudley with every day. Soon, they were banned from making any of the meals, as they had put one too many color-changing charms on Dudley's food. About midway through August, Dudley showed up in Margaret's Room. He looked genuinely scared, but since Margaret was alone, he was more composed than usual.

"Do you think you could ask Lily, Audrey, and Harry to please stop pranking me? And to possibly give me the antidote to their last thingy they did on me? And could you write to someone to ask them to get rid of this tail. Actually, I think it's kinda cool though," he smiled at his sister. He sat down on her bed. "I know I'm a bit of a arsehole but…please…um…I don't know what to think anymore. I'm going to Aunt Marge's this weekend. I'm going to talk to her about all of this. Our parents have taught that Lily, Audrey, and Harry are all freaks, and then you became m-m-magical and now, I don't know what to think. Magic cannot be bad if you have it, can it?"

Margaret looked at Dudley. While Margaret and her mother had a love-hate relationship, Margaret and her father had a distant, odd, and strained relationship. At times her father seemed like he was almost scared of her and he did buy her good clothes and made sure she was happy, but he never showed much affection, not even to his wife and Dudley. Margaret and Aunt Marge had a very good relationship. Margaret loved the dogs and the dogs loved her and Aunt Marge doted on her and hugged and kissed her and Margaret knew that she tried her best to like Lily and Audrey for her sake.

Harry couldn't be helped; Aunt Marge just did not like Harry. While she didn't insult him, she largely ignored him and if she had to talk to him, she was very sharp with him. She didn't hate him but she did not like him. That was okay, it was way better than the way Vernon treated him.

Margaret's relationship with her brother was unique. He loved her but he also was, as he said, a bit of an arsehole to her. He made sure that no one at school would pick on her and that his gang left her alone though. He did beat up one guy that had dared to try to intimidate her. When he came around to find her, the boy was holding her arms at her side and was threatening her. He went home with two black eyes and a lot of bruises. He never went near Margaret again.

Margaret then patted Dudley on the arm and said, "Dud, you aren't an arsehole all the time…sometimes, you're the whole arse." She then giggled. After a bit, he giggled a bit too, and soon they were both laughing.

So the next day, Margaret had convinced Lily and Audrey to lay off Dudley and had convinced them to perform the counter charm. Harry never did participate in the pranks. Dudley may have known this because he bumped into Harry one day and actually said something.

"Harry…um…" said Dudley.

"Yeah?" said Harry.

"Don't forget anything when you pack. Mum and Dad will probably burn whatever you leave behind," and then he grasped his bottom and ran into his room. Harry would have laughed if he weren't so surprised.

They would lie on the floor and on Margaret's bed, reading, late into the night, their pets coming and going as they pleased through the open window. They had even taken out the screen to the window, so Lisi, as Margaret nicknamed her cat, could go chase birds other than Hedwig, Amata, and Thanatos. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia never came in to vacuum, as the floor was soon covered with dead mice from the nighttime wanderings of their pets. Every day, before they went to their separate rooms, they would take turns ticking off another day on the piece of paper they had pinned on Margaret's wall, counting down the days until September the first.

On the last day of August, Margaret decided to tell her parents that they needed to get to Kings Cross Station somehow. She went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show and waited for a commercial break before clearing her throat to let them know she was there. Dudley jumped, then relaxed when he realized that it was Margaret.

"Er- Dad?"

Vernon Dursley grunted to show he was listening.

"Er- I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to- to go to school."

He grunted again.

"Would you be able to give all of us a lift? Then you would not have to see any of us until next June."

Grunt. Margaret supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

She was about to go upstairs when he spoke.

"Funny way to get a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Margaret didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Margaret, realizing this for the first time. She pulled one of the tickets from Hagrid out of her pocket. "I just take the eleven o'clock train from platform nine and three-quarters."

Both the Dursleys stared at her.

"Platform what?"

"Platform nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Vernon Dursley. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on my ticket... And Harry's... And Lily's... And Au-Petunia's..." responded Margaret, holding up each of their tickets as she said their names.

"Barking," he responded, "howling mad, the whole lot of them. You'll see. All right, we'll take you all to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" asked Margaret, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings. And fix those colorings from your blasted cousins."

"You know, if you were to ask nicely, I would bet that they would be alright with removing the tail."

He grunted in response. Petunia looked thoughtful at this. After Margaret left the room, she got up and followed her upstairs. "Margaret, dear, there is a Platform 9 3/4. I never went with Lily, your aunt, to the train, so I do not know how to get onto the platform. I am sure though that you will find out. We'll get there on time, so don't worry," said Petunia and then she left Margaret's room. Petunia was going through some changes; she missed her siblings ever since they were taken away by the magical world. She was determined that she would not lose her daughter, too. Hopefully, Marge would help.

All the children woke up at five o'clock the next morning and were too excited and nervous to sleep. They all met in Margaret's room, where they found that all of them were wearing Muggle clothing, agreeing that they would change on the train. They checked their Hogwarts lists again to make sure they had everything, and crammed it all into the back of Uncle Vernon's car, borrowing his keys before he or the neighbors woke up. The only things that were exempt from this process were their pets, which would ride on their laps and on the floor.

Two hours later, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into getting into the same car as the four children, then got into the last seat in the back seat, to talk to her daughter, whom she had a love-hate relationship for, and currently knew she was going to miss, especially with Dudley leaving in about a week for Smeltings.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Vernon put all their stuff onto luggage carts and wheeled them into the station for them. Harry thought this was strangely kind of him, until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

While Uncle Vernon was putting their stuff on the luggage cart, Lily pulled out her wand and tapped Dudley's pig-tail. It disappeared. Vernon would not be pleased by the 'wasted trip' but it was the only way to get to London. Dudley had went to Margaret and Lily to tell them (stuttering and grasping his bottom the whole time) that if they waited until they got to King's Cross to reverse the pig tail, then Vernon would take them as he would think that he still had to get the tail removed. Dudley would start squirming a lot on the way to the hospital and then declare that it was gone, trying to convince Vernon that it simply wore off.

"Well, there you children go. Platform nine- platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?" he said with a very nasty grin.

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry, Lily, and Audrey all turned to watch them drive away, all three laughing. Dudley turned and gave them a discrete thumbs up; well, it was for Margaret anyway.

* * *

A few hours later, Dudley was almost in shock. He was actually being punished for the first time in his entire life. He'd squirmed and squirmed on the way to the doctor and then reached back behind him and gasped. When his mother asked what was wrong, he told them the tail was gone. His dad was furious but he kept saying that it must have just worn off like the color-changing thingy did. He didn't tell them that Lily had removed the color-changing prank the night before and the tail that morning. Well, on the way home, he was so relieved not to have to go to the doctor, that he let slip that having a pig's tail wasn't so bad, that perhaps he should change for the better. His dad was so angry that as soon as they got home, he said, "So you want to amend your ways, well, you can start by going to your room without supper. GO!"

Now more than ever, Dudley was going to do as Aunt Marge advised him. He was going to stop being mean to the fre…his cousins and start being nicer to them. He was also going to stop eating like a human pig; he was 11 years old, weighed 225 pounds, and was a size 38. Aunt Marge had told him to start being a real man, to start thinking for himself instead of letting his father do all of his thinking for him. He'd almost told his aunt about some of the things his father encouraged, well, told him to do. It was his father who invented Harry, Lily, and Petunia hunting. It was his father who told him to keep the three from making any friends. It was his father who told him to make sure he kept Harry in line, and how he should do so. His father said, "I'm teaching you how to keep those who are below you in line. You should remember these lessons for the future. When you are the man of the house, you'll need to make sure that any freaks in your family are kept in their place." As a part of his punishment, he was taken to his Aunt Marge's, as his father was furious with him, and did not want to see him, even though he would be starting school (although he would be allowed to walk the six kilometers from his school to Marge's house every weekend, if he so wished.)

After spending that weekend with Aunt Marge, he knew that he was going to have to change and he didn't look forward to it. He was scared and he told his aunt this. "Don't worry about it Dud. You are a Dursley and a Dursley always does what is right, not what is easy. We may not always be good people, but we never try to be bad people. We make mistakes and we are human but we do try our best. Don't be afraid of your dad. If he starts hitting you, hit him back, you have my permission to do so and if he doesn't stop hitting you, then call me. I will come up there and I will put him in his place, even if I have to castrate him like Ripper here." Ripper looked up and then laid his head back down. He was getting old and starting to sleep a lot. Ripper was not a mean or vicious dog. However, when he was at Vernon's house, he picked up on Vernon's attitude toward the 3 children and as Vernon was the alpha male, Ripper responded to his attitude. He never bit because biting was not allowed to anyone who was not a direct threat to Marge or the pack. He did like to chase and act all vicious toward Harry. This was mainly because Harry was scared of him. He was not allowed to bother the girls so he just ignored them. He mainly stayed by Marge and if not by her, then he was in their room or the living room asleep.

Of course, Marge only visited Vernon three times a year when she had to go into London to attend a conference, give a lecture, or buy supplies for the clinic, often trying to arrange it so that she was there for Dudley's birthday, Margaret's birthday and Christmas. During that time, Vernon, to keep it from Marge that the 3 children slept in cupboards, moved them to cots in a finished room in the basement. She usually stayed a week each time. This time was both good and bad for them. It was good because they got 3 good meals a day, and their chores were lessened. It was bad because afterwards Vernon was always meaner to them. After one visit, he actually smacked Harry when Harry asked why they couldn't stay in the basement room all the time. SMACK "Shut up boy and get back to work. You are a freak and don't deserve a room like good normal people." If Marge had known this, Vernon would have found his arm broken. That was one of the few times that he hit Harry, because he was mostly all hot air and fat and really just too lazy to hit much. He usually yelled, threatened, and spit a lot but he hardly ever hit them and never really hit the girls. Margaret threatened to tell Aunt Marge and Vernon knew that if Marge's favorite niece went to her crying and sobbing about how mean Vernon was, they would never find his remains. Even if Aunt Marge didn't dote on Harry like she did with Margaret and Dudley, and to some extent, Lily and Audrey (she had agreed with Margaret calling her Audrey, although for Marge, it was more to differentiate between her sister-in-law and her "niece", than as a statement of dislike for Petunia Dursley), but Harry was a human being, and therefore deserved to be treated as such.

* * *

Back at the train station, Harry, Audrey, and Lily were already wondering what on earth they were going to do. They were attracting a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig, Amata, and Thanatos, although Lisi was not so strange, as she was just a cat. They'd have to ask someone.

Margaret was not worried though. "Mother told me that there is a platform here but she didn't know how to get onto it. So, we'll wait and perhaps a wizard family will come along and we can follow them?" said Margaret to the others. They were not very enthusiastic about this.

Harry stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when none of them could even tell him where it was, he started to get annoyed, as though they were being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Lily asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end, he strode away, muttering about time wasters. They were all trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, they had ten minutes left to get onto the train to Hogwarts and they had no idea how to do it; they were stranded in the middle of a station with trunks too heavy for them to lift, pockets full of wizarding money, a cat, two owls, and a phoenix.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell them something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. Audrey wondered if she should get out her wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

At that moment, a group of people passed just behind them, and Lily caught a few words of what they were saying.

"-packed with Muggles, of course-"

She swung around. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to five boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like theirs in front of them- and they had an _owl_.

Heart hammering, Lily pushed her cart after them, the rest of the children wondering who she was following.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mum, can't I go..." Another girl, who seemed about the same age, nodded in agreement to her words.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

Audrey stared after him, as who seemed to be the oldest boy marched towards platforms nine and ten. In fact, all the children watched, but he just disappeared. Audrey just happened to watch after him with much more interest than any of the other three children.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone- but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier- he was almost there- and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it; shooting Harry, and the other two girls an 'I-told-you-so' look, she strengthened her resolve to ask.

"Excuse me," said Margaret to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron and Arthur are also new."

She pointed to the last two boys, obviously the youngest. They were both tall, thin, and gangling, although one of them had freckles and the other didn't. Both had big hands and feet, and long noses.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is-"

"The thing is," cut in Lily, "we don't know how to-"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and all four nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron. Ginny, Jen, stick with me, please. I don't want either of you ending up on the Hogwarts Express today; you'll have plenty of time for that later." The two little girls who looked almost old enough to attend Hogwarts both groaned.

"Er- okay," said Harry as Audrey ran at the barrier.

He and Lily pushed their trolleys around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

They started to walk toward it. People jostled them on their way to platforms nine and ten. They walked more quickly. They were going to smash into that barrier, and then they'd be in trouble- leaning forward on his cart, Harry broke into a heavy run, Lily doing the same a moment later- the barrier was coming nearer and nearer- they couldn't stop- the carts were out of control- they were a foot away- they closed their eyes, ready for the crash-

It didn't come... they kept running... then opened their eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Lily looked behind them and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, and, as she watched, saw Margaret coming through to join them. They had done it, although Audrey seemed to be missing.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Together, they pushed their carts down the platform, trying to find a carriage with at least four empty seats. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville_," they heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. One of the people in it was Audrey, whom Lily poked.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

They, joined by Audrey, pressed through the crowd until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. Harry put their pets in first and then started to try to heave and shove Lily's trunk up the steps, but could hardly raise one end of it and twice dropped it painfully on his foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the older red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Harry was able to bring all their trunks up to their compartment, tucking them away in different parts of it.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes as the girls came in, having stood and watched Harry (although Lily and Margaret both offered to help. Audrey would have, but then Harry dropped the trunk on his foot, and she was too busy laughing at his face.)

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you-"

"He _is_," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Lily.

"_Harry Potter_" chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Margaret. "I mean, yes, he is. But he's also my cousin..." She trailed away at the looks the twins gave her.

"Are you _her_? Are you one of the Evans twins?"

"No. Lily and Audrey are. I'm just their cousin who happens to have been born on the same day..." She trailed off, realizing how sarcastic that sounded.

The two boys gawked at them, and all four turned red. Then, to their immense relief, a voice came floating through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at Harry, Audrey, and Lily, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

One of the younger twins tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"_Mum_- geroff." He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the older twins.

"Shut up," said Ron and Arthur together.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny silver badge with the letter _P_ on it. Audrey now was watching the family as well, paying extra attention to Percy. Lily and Margaret both noticed this, and began to giggle. Neither Harry nor Audrey noticed them.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have two compartments to themselves-"

"Oh, are you a _prefect_, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a _prefect_," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term- send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins. Audrey was no longer paying attention to the red-haired family, which caused Lily and Margaret to erupt further in laughter. Audrey soon had them tackled to the ground, until Margaret began to giggle even more loudly, and then she began to tickle them for so long that their sides began to hurt.

"Now, you two- this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've- you've blown up a toilet or-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea, though, thanks, Mum."

"It's _not funny_. And look after Ron and Arthur."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins and wee Artykins are safe with us."

"Shut up," said the younger two twins again. They were both almost as tall as the twins already, and Ron's freckled nose was still pink where his mother had just rubbed it.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking, and was thankful that it was obvious that the girls were all otherwise occupied, as he had noticed the outbreak of the tickle war.

"You know those four children who was near us in the station? Know who they are?"

"Who?"

"_Harry Potter, Lily Evans, Petunia Evans_, and another girl, I think her name is Audrey Evans."

Harry heard one of little girls' voice.

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see them, Mum, oh please..."

"You've already seen them, Ginny, and the poor children aren't something you goggle at the zoo. Is it really them, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked Harry. Saw his scar. It's really there- like lightning."

"Poor _dear_- no wonder they were alone, I wondered. They were ever so polite when they asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think they remember what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask them, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though they need reminding of that on their first day of school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the four boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sisters began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat, Jen."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mum."

The train began to move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sisters, half laughing and half crying, running to keep up with the train until it picked up too much speed, then they fell back and waved.

Harry watched the girls and their mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to- but it had to be better than what he had left behind.

The compartment door slid open and the two youngest red-headed boys came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" one of them asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head, and the boy sat down. The other boy had sat down next to Harry without asking. Lily, Audrey, and Margaret's tickling war had turned into a poking war. Harry poked each of them, and said, "You three are aware that we have guests, correct?" They all stopped and stood up, sitting down on various seats.

"Hey, Ron, Arthur."

The older twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron and Arthur in unison

"Harry, Lily, Petunia, Audrey," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And these are our younger brothers, Ronald and Arthur. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Audrey angrily. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you guys really- you know, Harry Potter, Lily Evans, and Petunia Evans?" asked Ron.

Harry and Lily nodded, but Audrey shook her head.

"My name may be Petunia Evans, but I'm nothing like _her_."

"She means our aunt. But yes, for this conversation, she is Petunia Evans, although please call her Audrey." explained Lily quickly, earning a scowl from Audrey.

"Oh- well, we thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," explained Arthur hastily. "And have you all got- you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron starred. Lily showed him the back of her right hand, and he stared harder. Audrey sighed and showed him the back of her neck. Ron was truly staring now.

"Stare much harder, and your face will turn red, Ron." said Arthur. Ron got the hint and stopped.

"Who are you?" Arthur added, asking Margaret, in a fashion that was not rude, but not completely polite.

At the same time, Ron asked the three others, "So that's where You-Know-Who-?"

"Yes," said Margaret, "but they can't remember. I'm Margaret, their cousin. I happen to have the displeasure of being descended from their horrible aunt and uncle. I dare not call them my parents when I don't have to."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well- We all remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." responded Lily.

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at the three of them for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Audrey. All four of the children found wizards just as interesting as Ron found Margaret's three cousins.

"Er- yes, I think so," said Arthur, as Ron continued to stare out the window.

"I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him," added Ron, turning around.

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you went to go live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible- well, not all of them. We were all excited to find out that Margaret was coming with us. Besides, I think that our Aunt Petunia, at the very least, may be a Squib from a line of Squibs, so she's not exactly a Muggle born. But my aunt and uncle and older cousin are all horrible. Wish I'd had four wizard brothers."

"Six," said Ron. For some reason, both he and Arthur were looking gloomy. "We're the sixth and seventh in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say we've got a lot to live up to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects us to do as well as the others, but if we do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five older brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. Arthur nodded, adding, "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up, and we have to share him. Percy got an owl from our dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, we got Scabbers instead. My wand is our uncle Billius' wand, it should've been buried with him, but he left it to our mom in his will. He left her a lot of gold, as well, but it was gone quickly, with the ten of us, and all."

By now, both boys' ears had gone pink. They both seemed to think they had said too much, because Ron went back to looking out the window, and Arthur hastily picked up one of their textbooks, and pretended to read it.

Ron then spoke up again, "We tried to turn him yellow yesterday but it didn't work."

Arthur, or Arty, looked at Ron and shook his head, "I told you that spell from Fred was fake. Never, ever trust Fred or George. You know they love their pranks," he turned to the others in the compartment. "Fred and George are really harmless; they won't every hurt you, like physically or permanently but don't take any candy they give you and never trust any spells they tell you about. When I was 8, they told me that a wizard could…" Arty started to say but Ron interrupted him, "ARTY! That's too private to share, plus there are _girls_ in the compartment. Anyway, he is right. Their pranks are harmless, and never do any permanent damage, but be on guard. One time, when our Great-Aunt Muriel came over, they slipped something into her food, and she ended up burping blue and green bubbles until Mum gave her the antidote. Fred and George earned that spanking; of course, that was the first time I seen Great-Aunt Muriel spank anyone. Fred and George told me that it wasn't nearly as hard as Mum spanks but it was a 'decent spanking nonetheless' as Fred put it."

None of the other children thought there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, for three of them, they'd never had any money in their lives, until about a month ago, and Harry told the two boys so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer up both boys.

"...and until Hagrid told us, we didn't know anything about being wizards-"

"Hey! We knew we were witches! We just chose not to share that slightly important information with you..." interrupted Audrey.

"Anyways, I knew nothing about my parents, magic, or Voldemort-"

Both Ron and Arthur gasped.

"What?" asked Lily, just as confused as Harry.

"_He said You-Know-Who's name!_" said Arthur, sounding both shocked and impressed.

"I'd have thought you, of all people-" added Ron.

"I'm not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name," said Harry.

"We just never knew you shouldn't. See what we mean, though? We've got loads to learn... I bet," Lily added, voicing for the first time something she had been worrying about a lot lately, " I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be- there's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

"Besides, Lily- the things we've tried at home have worked for you better than anyone, besides maybe Margaret. If anyone has to be a dunderhead, it would be me or Harry."

"Gee, thanks, Audrey. That makes me feel so confident in my abilities."

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry and Audrey both jumped up, having had no breakfast that morning, and Lily asked Audrey to get her something, she didn't care what, and Margaret nodded in agreement. Ron's ears went red, and he mumbled something about sandwiches from his mother, and Arthur brought out something wrapped in tinfoil.

Neither Harry nor Audrey had ever gotten money for candy from the Dursleys, and now that they had plenty of money, they were determined to buy as many Mars Bars as they could carry- but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things that neither of them had ever seen in their lives. Not wanting to miss anything, they each bought some of everything, and paid the woman two gold Galleons, knowing that they would have to share with Lily and Margaret.

Ron and Arthur stared as they brought in all their food, and dropped it into an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," responded Audrey, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Both boys had unwrapped their sandwiches, and were in the process of swapping them, as Ron's contained corned beef, and Arthur's contained egg salad.

"She always mixes up which one of them we each like. And they're always rather dry, no matter what they are."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on-"

"You don't want either of these sandwiches, they're both too dry," argued Arthur. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with six of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Lily, who had never been able to share anything with anyone, besides, of course, her bedroom with her twin sister, and the rest of the Dursley house with Dudley, who took up about ten percent of the floor space with just his own body. It was a nice feeling, all six of them sitting there, eating their way through all the pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten on the floor).

"What are these?" Lily asked Arthur, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not _really_ frogs, are they?" They were all starting to feel that nothing would surprise them.

"No," said Arthur. "But see what the card is. Ron's missing Agrippa, and I'm missing Uric the Oddball."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know- Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect- famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy, and I've only gotten Uric once, or else I would've given Arthur one. Arthur hasn't gotten Agrippa or Ptolemy more than once- well, he's gotten Ptolemy lots of times, in the beginning, but Fred convinced him to give him three of them, and he only had four to begin with."

Harry unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and picked up the card that fell out. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore/

"So _this_ is Dumbledore!" exclaimed Harry. Both Margaret and Audrey ran over to get a closer look.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa- thanks-"

Harry turned over the card and read:

Albus Dumbledore

Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindewald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music, manipulating people, knitting, and tenpin bowling. His favorite sweet is a Muggle sweet called a "lemon drop".

Harry turned the card over, and to his and his cousin's astonishment, saw that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to stay around all day," said Ron.

"You know, in Muggle pictures, the people stay put, Ron. Haven't you heard Dad talking about that?" asked Arthur.

"You know, brother dearest, I actually _don't listen to Dad when he talks about Muggle stuff!_"

"Yeah, because you don't find it interesting. In third year, I'm going to sign up for Muggle Studies. And Care for Magical Creatures. Or maybe Arithmancy. I don't know yet. What will you guys sign up for?"

"I don't know. Is there any way I could do all the classes?" asked Lily.

"Ummm... I don't think so, but if you can figure out a way, then count me in!" exclaimed Arthur.

"Ok, then. What're these?"

"Oh... Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans! When they say every flavor, they do mean every single flavor. Fred reckons he got a bogey-flavored one once, but you also get the normal flavors, like butterbeer, chocolate, peppermint, pink lemonade. But there are other gross ones, too. Like earwax, and liver, and rotten egg. So be careful!"

Lily picked up a green one, looked at it carefully, smelled it, then bit into it.

"Bleaaaargh- see? Sprouts." Lily continued sampling, and ended up with toast, coconut, strawberry, peanut butter and jelly, curry, grass, toffee, coffee, and even salt and pepper (ironically, in that order.)

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat green fields were gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock at the door, and the round-faced boy they had passed earlier came in. He looked tearful. A girl with bushy brown hair followed him in.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Here, I can help you! Just one moment." Lily stood on the seat and reached up for her trunk. After a few moments of searching, she found the book she wanted. Taking it out, she muttered, "Summoning Charm... Summoning Charm... page 820... close, 780... Ah, 820... _accio._" She pointed her wand nowhere in particular, and a chocolate frog came whizzing towards her. Audrey rolled her eyes.

"What's your toad's name?"

"Trevor."

"Watch, Lily. Watch how it's done. _Accio Trevor!_" And then the toad zoomed down the corridor, landing neatly in Audrey's hands. She then handed it to him, saying, "You should really look into getting a permanent, or semi-permanent, sticking charm for your toad. It'll keep him from getting lost." The boy thanked her, then turned to leave, turning back in a moment later.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Hi! I'm Harry Potter, and these are my cousins Audrey and Lily Evans, and Margaret Dursley."

"Are you really? I know all about you, of course-, I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"We are?" asked Harry and Audrey together. All they had heard was Lily going on and on about another book that they both could not remember the name of at that particular moment.

"Those books assume that our relatives treat us fairly now. They don't. I bought all of those, as well as _Unexplainable Magic: the Study of the Downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_. They're all rubbish. Full of conspiracy theories." Lily responded. "Or, even worse, theories that make no sense at all- like that we were all three given Felix Felicis right before he came." Hermione looked slightly taken aback at Lily's annoyance at her.

And then the boy from Diagon Alley came in, with two large, thickset boys, one on each side of him. He glanced at Harry, then took a deep breath.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing that the attention was now all on him. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Both of the Weasleys gave slight coughs, which were obviously hiding snickers. Draco Malfoy glanced at them, then glanced at Neville.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me the Weasleys all have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Both Weasleys turned bright red.

"And who're you? I heard Harry Potter and the Evans twins were down at this end of the train."

"That would be us," responded Audrey, "and our cousin, Margaret Dursley."

"Mudblood." Malfoy coughed. "Now, see here, Potter. You don't want to start making friends with the wrong sorts. I can help you in that. You too, Evans and Evans. My father taught me about that. I used to worry he was wrong, but now, seeing you, I can see how he _was_ right about _some_ things. But, I can give you all a chance. Even Dursley here."

"Oh, so you'll warn us away from you? I'm sorry, but ferreting your nose into business like this is a little annoying; not a trait I'd want in my friends, thanks all the same." stated Audrey, suddenly interested. Malfoy's eyes widened, and he turned slightly pink. She then bent down to get something out from under the seat. While her back was turned, Malfoy whipped out his wand, not noticing that Lily had a Transfiguration book open on her lap, which Margaret had been looking at before they came into the compartment. He didn't even notice that Margaret muttered something under her breath. Until the spell took hold.

Where Malfoy had been standing moments earlier, there was now what seemed to be a pure white ferret running in a circle.

"You filthy scum! Wait until my father hears about this!" it screeched.

"_Silencio._" Lily muttered, and, even though the animal continued to rant, none of the people on the train could hear it.

"Meant to turn him into a ferret, not a jarvey. Oh well... They are kind of interesting," said Margaret, she bent down to look at the jarvey, "Mr. Malfoy, do remember that it was a muggleborn that did this to you."

The trolley witch came back down the corridor, and, spotting Malfoy on the ground as a ferret- no, a jarvey- she performed the counter spell. "Just so you know, dears, Transfiguration on another student without their permission is banned at Hogwarts." She then looked up, and her jaw dropped. "But- but- but- you're _first years_! How can you- that's a NEWT level spell! Who did this to Mr. Malfoy?"

"Dursley! My father will hear about this!"

"Your father will hear you got taken out by a girl who didn't know she was a witch until this past July? And he'll believe that I, a _mudblood_, was able to do a NEWT level piece of Transfiguration, one of the hardest classes taught at Hogwarts? Please," Margaret shot back at him. She used the same voice that she usually used when talking to one of Dudley's friends who tried to kiss her; they usually only tried when Dudley wasn't around and knew that if she told Dudley that they tried to kiss her, he would beat them to a pulp. They limited their efforts to begging and trying to convince her they were good at snogging; it really was laughable especially when she kept shooting them down so sarcastically.

The witch with the trolley looked at Margaret with new respect, realizing that she would have to tell Professor Dumbledore about the girl who was a cousin to the three children who lived. Being that the Witch with the Trolley was a widow of a muggleborn wizard, she would definitely mention Mr. Malfoy's multiple use of _that word_ and make sure the Headmaster knew that she felt it was probably Mr. Malfoy's own fault.

"Try not to lose your temper again, Ms.-"

"Dursley, ma'am, and I won't." The woman looked even more stunned. She looked more like Severus Snape than the oldest Evans child, who had not been able to get through the first day of her first year. Everything with magic that she had tried had blown up in her face, although she _was_ a witch, as she did exhibit times of accidental magic, but only when she wanted them to, as she was always the most controlled of the three Evans, as far as temper went.

"You'd best be getting your robes on. We will be arriving soon. And remember, no more than ten to a compartment. If you make any new friends, you might want to reserve a car next time. You can do so, if you so wish." The 3 trouble-making boys left, Malfoy calling over his shoulder, "Be careful who you make friends with! Blood traitors, squibs and Mudbloods only get you so far, you know! Fame won't do much for you, Potter, Evans, Evans, if you turn every respectable person you meet into talking ferrets." With those words, the three boys ran back to their compartment. Hermione and Neville walked to the compartment next door and quickly got on their robes, joining the four cousins and the younger Weasley twins in their compartment.

It was dark when they finally stopped. They were told to leave luggage and pets on the train, as it would be taken up to the school separately. They all gathered up the last of the candy and put it into Lily's trunk, which, although fullest of books, was also somehow the lightest by far.

They went over to where Hagrid was calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" on the platform. He then asked, "All right there, kiddos?", to which all eight of them nodded.

Someone bumped Harry from behind and he felt something being slipped into his hand. It was a bit of parchment. He didn't have time to notice who it was that bumped into him as Hagrid hurried everyone up. It was too dark to read it, so he would have to wait until after they got to the school.

"Everyone followin' me? Now, righ', no more'n four to each boat. Elsewise, ye'd be sinkin' 'em." They all scrambled into the boats. The four cousins ended up in one, and the other four ended up in another. "Now, yeh'll all be seein' Hogwarts in a moment, right... There she is..." The boats glided across the lake, and then Lily pushed Harry's head down, while Audrey did the same to Margaret, both narrowly avoiding the wall that was the ceiling to the cave, hidden behind tons of twisting ivy. "Heads down!"

They went under the castle, which seemed to be perched on a cliff of sorts. Hagrid then said, "All righ'! Everyone out!" while climbing out of his own boat. The children all waited for the soft bump of their boats hitting land before cautiously clambering out onto the shore. Hagrid was already at the wall, and knocked three times on a door that Harry swore had not been there when they first entered the cave. Harry quickly glanced at the scrap of parchment, and found that the side he was looking at only had two letters on it- DM. The only person he could think of having those initials was Draco Malfoy, who _was_ watching him, and _did_ mouth, "Open it at dinner, when it's loud." Harry quickly pocketed the parchment, nodding to him. Just then, the door opened.

* * *

**Thank you to all the amazingly awesome people reading this! A special thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited it! A VERY special thank you to the amazing RUGoing2writethat for betaing!**

**Please review or PM me if there is anything you want to have happen sometime in this story. I have it sort of planned, but a lot of it is also not planned (such as the part about Petunia having magic, although she can only use it on occasion...)**


	7. The Sorting Hat

The witch who opened the door had a stern face, and was wearing dark green robes, almost the same color as Margaret's eyes. She had a very stern face, and both Harry and Lily knew she was not someone to cross. Audrey thought that it would be funny to cross her slightly, and decided that she would never again respond to the name Petunia, for anyone, ever.

"This is Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out in the half-light of the flickering torches, a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors, and the wall on the other side of them, about twenty feet up, was stained glass as far as they could see, which was maybe another three feet.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagstone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway ahead, but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber a couple hundred feet behind the first step of the Grand Staircase. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they normally would, and listened to her nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be like your family within Hogwarts" (Audrey muttered, "sure hope she means family, like you guys are family, and not like the Vernon and Petunia are family." to which the other three nodded.) "You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, and any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. Margaret, and both Ms. Petunia Audrey and Lily Evans, may I see you three in the hall for a moment? Oh, and of course, Mr. Potter."

All four followed her out into the hallway. Wasting no time whatsoever, she turned to the four children and told them, "I heard about what happened on the train today, and I would like to warn you that over the holidays, you are not allowed to use magic without the approval of the Ministry of Magic. Wonderful Transfiguration work, Margaret, however, please do not Transfigure anyone else without their permission, as it is illegal."

All four were looking at her like she was crazy for taking them all out into the hall to tell Margaret this.

"Professor, why did you bring us all out here, if only you really needed to talk to Margaret?"

"I was under the impression that Ms. Petunia Evans self-identifies herself as Audrey Evans, and I wanted to make sure I was correct in believing that none of you three self-identify as anything other than your given names."

"No, Professor."

"Well then, go smarten yourselves up with the rest of the first years. And take that ridiculous bow out of your hair, Ms. Audrey Evans." Scowling, Audrey did so. They walked back into the classroom, and watched everyone else running around. Hermione was muttering the contents of their textbooks under her breath, and Ron was trying to figure out how to take out a mountain troll without using magic. Arthur was rubbing Ron's nose, trying to get rid of the dirt on it. He finally succeeded when he licked his finger and wiped it off, to which Ron groaned at.

Professor McGonagall came back in, telling them to line up alphabetically by last name. They did so, and then all went into the Great Hall.

The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led all the students up by the table, which was on a raised platform, so that they came to halt facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid the staring eyes, Harry looked up to see if what Lily had told him was true- that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky. It was, and it was a velvety black sky, dotted with hundreds, if not thousands, of glittering stars. It was hard to believe that there was a ceiling at all, and that the Great Hall did not simply open onto the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house, making Audrey want to steal it and sneak it under Petunia's pillow one night in the middle of summer.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing- noticing that everyone else was staring at the hat, he stared at it too.

For a few seconds, there was silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide, like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And Unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_Just don't get in the flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though none I have)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll."

"Ron, you really need to stop believing the twins. It's not good for you."

Harry smiled weakly as the two brothers began to bicker silently. Yes, trying on the hat was easy enough, but he didn't know which category he would fit into. He couldn't decide where any of his cousins would end up, either, but he thought that Lily would probably be either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, as she was really smart, and really brave. Audrey sort of fit into all the groups, as did Margaret, while he, Harry, was sure that he fit in nowhere.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled up, put on the hat, which fell right over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. One of the ghosts waved merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, as did "Brocklehurst, Mindy", but "Brown, Lavender" and "Brown, Violet" became the first two Gryffindors, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the older Weasley twins catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but they looked like an unpleasant lot. Harry zoned out, then realized that it was Margaret's turn upon hearing the name, "Connery, Kevin", who was a Ravenclaw, and turned to watch her get Sorted.

However, Professor McGonagall next called out the name "Evans, Audrey!"

Feeling sick and nervous, Audrey sat down on the stool. Everyone stood up, saying "Did she say Evans?" She put the hat on, and it slipped down over her eyes.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. You are definitely courageous, but you are also very sly... Hmm... Where to place you... You are fiercely loyal to your sister and cousins, but are obviously a prankster. You are definitely smart... I shall have to assess your sister... I am going to do something that I have never done before, if that is alright with you."

"What?"

"I am going to shout _can I Sort her sister first?_. I think your sister's Sorting is going to give me a larger insight into how you think than your own already has."

"And you've never done this before?"

"Nope."

"Then no, you have to decide right now."

"No, I can't. That is the problem. If I hurry with this choice, then I could accidentally mis-Sort you, and I am not supposed to be wrong about a student's House, ever."

"No."

"Then we will sit until you agree to this."

"No. Choose!"

"We are sitting until you agree to this. You don't want to have the longest Hatstall in Hogwarts history, do you?"

"What?"

"A Hatstall is when I can't make the choice within five minutes. The older students are going to be very angry that you made their dinner wait."

"I'm not hungry- why should they be?"

"Because they were smart enough to not stuff themselves with food from the trolley on the train."

"Still not agreeing."

"Fine." There was silence for about ten minutes before Audrey began thinking about records, and if the Hat would do that until midnight if it had to.

"Fine, you can shout it out. As long as you do that again someday soon, so that I don't seem so special."

"Ok, then. CAN I SORT HER SISTER FIRST?" Everyone gasped. Audrey took off the hat, and walked back to the line, where the name, "Evans, Lily!" was called. Again, everyone gasped (_Dunderheads_ thought Audrey. _If the Sorting Hat asked for my sister, then why wouldn't she be the next person to be called?_) and stood up to get a good look at Lily.

Lily felt uneasy, although she wasn't really scared or anything, just curious about why Audrey wasn't able to be sorted, and why Margaret's name hadn't been called. She sat down on the stool and put the hat on. It slid all the way down past her nose.

"Hmm," said the Hat. "Brave, very brave indeed... But smart as well... Books appear to be your very close friends... You could go far in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw... (the hat went on like this for several minutes) However- in Gryffindor, you could go even further. Are you all right with that choice?"

"Yes."

"Then it will be GRYFFINDOR!"

Feeling relieved, Lily went to take off the hat. "Wait! Wait! No, I need to know where your sister ought to go... Ah, yes... That clarifies everything. You may go."

Lily took off the hat, then went over to the Gryffindor table. She did not notice that everyone was cheering for her.

"Evans, Petunia Audrey!" Audrey looked disgruntled at the fact that her given name was called this time, but went up to the stool anyways, as her middle name had also been called. She forgot how scared she was when she put on the hat.

"Would you rather be with your sister or go your own way?"

"I would rather be with Lily- I am one of the few people that she is willing to pull pranks with, and I need her for comfort- what if I have a bad dream, or I need someone to go around the castle with me at midnight?"

"A natural Occlumens, you are. Do you _know_ how hard it is to sort you? Ah, yes, but what your sister has shown me- more of a Leligimens, that girl is... Better be GRYFFINDOR!" yelled the hat. Audrey took it off, and then ran over to the Gryffindor table to sit next to Lily. It apparently happened so fast that everyone was looking along the Gryffindor table to find Audrey.

* * *

The sorting went on normally afterwards. Finch-Fletchley, Justin became a Hufflepuff, and his twin brother, Finch-Fletchley, Taylor, became a Ravenclaw, and Finnigan, Seamus, and Hermione both became Gryffindors. Harry became more and more worried that he, like Margaret, would not be called, and lost track of the Sorting again. Neville also became a Gryffindor, and Harry felt slightly better. Malfoy became a Slytherin the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head, and, although frowning for a half second, covered his frown with a smirk. There weren't many people left before Harry. "Macbeth", "Macbeth", "McDonald", "McKinley", "McKinney", "McMillen", "Moon", "Moon", "Nott", "Parkinson", then a set of triplet girls, "Patil", "Patil", and "Patil", then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last- "Potter, Harold!" Everyone jumped up to look at him. Guessing that the Dursleys had never actually told him his given name, Harry walked forward, and put the hat on, trembling with fear.

"Hmm..." said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and though, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_. _Maybe Gryffindor- I want to be with the twins. Or Ravenclaw seems like a good House, or Hufflepuff... Not Slytherin, though._

"No Slytherin, eh? Gryffindor is your first choice?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that. Ravenclaw would as well, as would Hufflepuff... No? I guess you would do well there... Well, if you're sure, better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took off the hat, relieved, walking shakily to the Gryffindor table. He hardly noticed that he was getting one of the loudest cheers yet. He sat down between Lily and Audrey, who intercepted Percy's handshake, shaking his hand. The older Weasley twins shouted "We got all three! We got all three!"

A ghost wearing a ruff patted him on the back, giving Harry the horrible feeling like he had just had someone dump a tub of ice cubes on his back.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. His silver hair was the only thing in the hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts.

Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

Harry allowed his mind to wander for a short time, although Lily was paying rapt attention to the Sorting, and Audrey was trying to tell her plate to give her some spaghetti.

* * *

Then Harry realized that there was a disturbance with the Sorting. He began paying attention when Audrey muttered, "that's the second time that Snape-Evans girl was called... She must not be paying much attention...The older students will begin to get upset, I'd bet..."

"Snape-Evans, Margaret-Charlotte Eileen."

All four cousins looked at each other in surprise.

"That's almost Margaret's name!" exclaimed Audrey. Both Harry and Lily shushed her.

Margaret came up and put the hat on hesitantly, as though unsure that was her name that was called. She was really scared, and the fright she had felt at not having her name called had not yet given way to the shock that she was not a Dursley.

"Great mind, I see. Not as obvious as any of your cousins, that is true... Very accepting of others... So much so, that you stood up to your brother for your cousins... And for him to them... Very foolish, but also very brave... Best be GRYFFINDOR!"

Margaret took off the hat and walked back to the Gryffindor table as Thomas, Dean also became a Gryffindor. "Turpin, Lisa" and "Turpin, Remus" became Ravenclaws, Harry lost track for a while, and then it was Arthur's turn.

"Well! A Weasley with a good solid mind. Now, where to put you, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor…hmm…yes, you have a good mind, and you are truly brave of heart, and you are able to think beyond books and class, so better be GRYFFINDOR!" said the hat, shouting the last part for the Great Hall to hear.

By now, Ron was a pale shade of green. He walked up slowly, and everyone at the table crossed their fingers, wanting this Weasley to be able to join his four brothers, and then the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" as soon as it touched his hair.

Everyone clapped loudly, knowing that he was the last Gryffindor of the year, as Zabini, Blaise became a Slytherin.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could please him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome", he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he- a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Lily's mouth was just as widely opened. Also on the table were strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, spaghetti, raviolis, chicken parmesan, grilled cheese sandwiches, and some sort of grape soda.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved any of the children, but they'd only let Margaret eat as much as she wanted on her birthday, and the other three not at all. Dudley had always taken what they had really wanted, even if it made him sick.

They all piled their plates high with the foods they most wanted to try and began to eat.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Lily cut up her chicken.

"I am sorry that you have to stay and watch us all eat." said Lily quietly.

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "That is four hundred Hogwarts feasts. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

"Ron! Seamus! He prefers to be called Sir-Nicholas-de-MimsyPorpington!" Lily scolded. "And, by the way, Merlin Seamus, you can't just ask ghosts how they can be nearly headless! I don't wonder that you aren't in Ravenclaw. He obviously was killed by a blunt axe that did not remove his head properly, leaving a lousy inch of skin and sinew holding his head onto his neck, making him unable to join the famed group the Headless Hunt! That is so insensitive!"

Seamus ignored her.

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat was not going the way he had planned, or, maybe, because Lily had hit the exact story behind him being nearly headless. Actually, it was because Lily stole his thunder. Sir Nicholas loved grossing out the first years by showing them just why he was nearly headless. His favorite year was in 1893 when he, without intending to, made a first year muggleborn who had never seen a ghost faint when he'd pulled his head off to show them. Oddly enough, for some reason, Peeves took the child under his protection and would viciously prank and attack any student who picked on him; the picking stopped the next day because no one wanted to suffer Peeves' wrath. Every year, Nick made sure to convince someone who had a younger sibling to tell them about Nearly Headless Nick, so that someone would ask at each feast. He wanted them to ask so he could show them. It pleased him that they were so stunned and grossed out by this.

"She's right. Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge.

Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Sir Nicholas flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed and said, "So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank, staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, or even, if what he had seen of him was true, the way the Sorting had gone for him. He felt kind of bad that the poor boy never had a chance to say, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_, like he, Harry, had gotten a chance at. Harry thought that the boy- Draco, he said his first name was- seemed too much of a good sort to join the Slytherins, easily the worst bunch in the school, although the façade he had matched to the rest of his House perfectly. Thinking of him, Harry took out the note and read it; itwas actually a very well-folded piece of parchment with another smaller piece inside. The smaller piece was a note; the larger piece was a map. It had a square that said Great Hall and arrow pointing to the Entrance hall and another arrow pointing to a classroom that was past the Great Hall near the Restrooms. He read the note and it said, "Please meet me in the classroom on the map. It is on the opposite side from the restrooms a little ways past them. Meet me before breakfast, 7AM." Harry refolded the note and whispered to his cousins about it. Margaret seemed to want to go with him and so did Lily but Audrey just didn't know. She wasn't much of a morning person.

When everyone had eaten as much as they wanted, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs, and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding-

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, and the girls all sampled various desserts, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up, and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me- he pushed me off the end of the Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned- But nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." Lily looked horrified at that and so did Margaret. Margaret tried to imagine Vernon holding her by her legs out of the upstairs window or throwing her down the stairs to get her to show magic. She shuddered. She knew Vernon hated magic but she (rightly) figured that if he was magical, he would hate muggles as much as he now hated magic. (She didn't know this but if Vernon had been magical, there would've been a four-way contest between him, Bellatrix, Barty Jr. and Lucius, to see who could hate muggles more.)

"We're all three half-bloods, and Margaret is technically Muggleborn, as none of her grandparents had magic. We all live with the Dursleys, and they treat us horribly." said Audrey. Just as she was saying that, one of the teachers at the staff table stood up, and came over to the Gryffindor table.

"Hello. I am Professor Severus Snape," he said when he reached the table. Some of the other teachers were also wandering around the Great Hall, so he had not caused any large amounts of attention to be drawn to the Gryffindor table. "And I would like to know who decided that it would be funny to make the Deputy Headmistress believe that I have a daughter."

"What're you, Professor?" asked Margaret. "We're talking about what all our families are, and I want to be able to say something other than a barnyard, seeing as my mother is most like a horse, and my step-father and brother are most like pigs."

"I am a half-blood, although it would be prudent to not trumpet that about." Professor McGonagall then came up to the table.

"Severus, would you care to explain what you are doing by the Gryffindor table?"

"I am trying to figure out which of the older Weasley twins made you think that I had a daughter."

"I assure you, the scroll for Sorting does not lie, Severus. You really are Margaret's father."

"Yes! That as-"

"And you had better watch what comes out of your mouth, Ms. Snape-Evans. Otherwise, it could do both you and your father a discredit."

"Sorry Professor. What I meant was that obese, idiotic, brainless pig is not my father?"

"Margaret, I am your father. For now. We shall see tomorrow morning, in Potions."

"Severus, do be nice to Margaret, alright?"

"Fine. I should probably go check on Lucius' son anyways. I will see you tomorrow, Margaret. 8 am, my classroom. Mr. Weasley, would you mind escorting her there?"

"Not at all, Professor," said Percy, puffing his chest out importantly. All four first-year twins rolled their eyes at his antics and the older twins put their fingers in their mouths to mime gagging. This caused Audrey to giggle, which caused Percy to scowl at her, causing her to blush.

By now, everyone felt warm and sleepy. Professor McGonagall went back up to the staff table, and Professor Snape swept over to the Slytherin table, his black robes billowing behind him.

"See if I help you, for laughing at me!" exclaimed Percy in his most pompous (read: extremely, irritatingly pompous) manner. Margaret rolled her eyes.

"Man, Margaret. Your dad sure is a looker! I mean, such long, black, greasy hair he has? Such an awesome nose? Sallow skin, just like your mum. I wonder how you didn't inherit any of it? I mean, seriously, look at you! You look nothing like him," said Audrey.

"Oh, I don't know... I do have the black hair, and remember how greasy it got when I forgot to shower for a couple of days when swimming was cancelled due to a leak in the pool?"

"But he's tall, and kind of scary looking, whereas you're tiny, and you don't look capable of harming a fly." At those words, Margaret's glare came. The look she gave Audrey was scary enough to make Sir Nicholas begin sweating, and Audrey to shut up, which Audrey wisely chose to do.

"Auds, I really think you need to rethink that. Only Margaret can get you to shut up, and that is with her glare."

Audrey stayed silent.

* * *

Professor Snape watched this from the staff table, smirking when Margaret glared at her cousin. That glare looked so much like his that, if she did not have green eyes, he would have sworn that it was a younger, smaller, female version of him glaring at a female Harold; without the nose of course, although that was due to his father's abuse, and not genetics. He actually thought that her nose looked slightly like his used to, but, as it was a long time ago, he could not be sure.

* * *

Harry asked Percy, "Can you tell us more about this Snape person?"

"He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to- everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape does..."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but he didn't look Harry's way ever. Watching him, however, Harry noticed several mannerisms about him that Margaret sometimes displayed- for example, both of them had the same sets of scowls, although Snape used his so often, Harry thought his face may have been stuck like that, as not once did he smile. Harry was glad that, if Margaret had to be a Snape, at least she did not have to act like her father, although she would, on occasion. Also, they both would sweep their hair out of their eyes and behind their ears using only their left hand. They both seemed to like darker colors, as well as both saving a weakness for the vanilla ice cream, with cherries on top, and the teacher seemed to stay well away from peanut butter. **(AN: thanks to Guest for pointing this out. I was half-asleep when I added this part, and forgot that I had misspelled some things...)**

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term announcements to make.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the older Weasley twins. The younger Weasley twins rolled their eyes at Fred and George's failed attempt to look innocent. Arthur actually snorted at the thought that anyone would think Fred and George were innocent. Dumbledore looked amused at this, while McGonagall looked at them sternly.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." There were coughs which were probably hiding snorts and snickers at this because this was one rule no one ever followed. All the older students knew that Filch hated magic for some reason. He was so mean that not even the Hufflepuffs liked him. None of the other staff really bothered to enforce this rule, except for preventing the students from fighting each other. That was a serious rule. However, using harmless magic, none of the staff bothered to punish, not even McGonagall and she was the strictest teacher in the school.

"Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested should contact Madam Hooch or their House Team's Captain.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"Well, all the more reason to go into the forest, if it's only dangerous beasts, and not deadly monsters. As for the corridor, I intend to see what is there first chance I can," Audrey muttered into Harry's ear. Lily, overhearing, began to tell her off, but at that moment, they all heard the last part of Dumbledore's speech: "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Harry noticed that all the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed and slightly fake looking.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees_

_Our heads could do a filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

_For now they're bare and full of air_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff_

_Sooo-_

_Teach us things worth knowing_

_Bring back what we forgot_

_Just do your best,_

_We'll do the rest_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone finished the song at different times. The first to finish singing was Audrey, who happened to like Peruvian Throat Singing, and therefore had sung it in Harry's ear in that way, causing an annoying buzz to the older child. The four Weasley twins were the last to be singing, the older two singing to a slow funeral march, and the younger two to a very slow funeral dirge matching the sound of Mozart's Requiem's Processional. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines using his wand as the conductor's baton and when they had finished, he was the one to clap the loudest and most enthusiastically. Audrey made a mental note to meet up with the older twins to plan some pranks as soon as possible, maybe dragging Lily along for the ride. Oh, this year could be fun!

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond what we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy to even be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice, Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

Lily, however, was avidly watching everything, trying to store all the new information into her brain for later, and almost did not notice that the group had stopped, causing her to bump into Percy, whom she was closely following. Following his gaze, she saw a bundle of walking sticks floating in midair ahead of them, and then Percy took a step toward them as they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves- show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What-" Suddenly, he saw something that made him stop. Looking around, none of the students could figure out what it was. "To the Original Marauders in this group! Welcome! Would you care to join me in a small prank war?" When no one answered him, instead of identifying further to whom he was speaking, he swooped down at them, causing all of them to duck. "Tried to warn you! Don't you worry about anything, Old Peevsie here will just take over the pranking for you!"

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks above Neville's head. Audrey, realizing what would happen in a half a second, moved Neville out of the way by pulling him closer to her. One of the walking sticks hit him on the shoulder, but none hit his head.

Peeves rattled the coats of armor as he left.

"You need to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him; he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it- Neville needed a leg up- and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory, and the boys through another. Before going up, the four cousins hugged and said goodnight, although Audrey seemed to be lost in thought. Lily was always lost in thought, but this time she was thinking about what Peeves had said.

At the top of the spiral staircase-they were obviously in one of the towers- they found their beds at last- five doors, leading to three dorms and a bathroom between every two dorms. Each dorm had 4 four-poster beds. Ron, Arthur, Neville, and Harry were in one room and Dean and Seamus were in another room. The bathroom connected the dorms together and each dorm had a sitting area off to one side where it looked like a 5th bed could go. Right now a small couch and sitting chair sat there. There was also a globe that looked like reddish-green liquid fire was swirling around inside.

"That's a warming globe; it's like a fireplace except it uses a special warming charm to project warmth through the room. I heard all the dorms have them; it's a new upgrade that the school installed during the summer," Neville told them. Neville didn't tell them it was his Gran who insisted on the upgrade. It was his family's vast fortune that paid for the globes, that were made by the Goyle Furniture Store. Actually Hogwarts was sold the globes at a 1 galleon per globe markup, which at 11 galleons each, barely made a dent in the Longbottom fortune. They just needed to be powered down and recharged by the House elves each day while the students were in classes. Neville had one in his room at Longbottom Manor; well, every room except the main sitting room and the kitchen had one. From what his Great Uncle told him, they were based on a muggle space heater. After he'd bounced, his Great Uncle Algie had taken a liking to him. It turned out that his Uncle Algie was even more fascinated with muggle things than Mr. Weasley; Mr. Weasley was the one who bought Uncle Algie's muggle car after Aunt Enid had forbidden him from driving due to being 108.

The boys wandered in to look at the other two rooms, one of which had three beds, and the other four. The boys in the rooms all introduced themselves, but it was too fast for Harry to remember their names.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings.

"Get _off_, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Harry was going to ask the twins if they had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

* * *

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it- then Malfoy turned into Snape, whose laugh became high and cold- there was a burst of green light, and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

He got up, and went down to the common room, staring out the large window at the night sky and some of the grounds, before turning to go back up to bed. He did not notice his three cousins sitting in the window next to his, hugging each other. He climbed into bed and fell asleep again, and when he woke up the next day, he remembered nothing at all.

While he was having his dream, however, Lily, Audrey, and Margaret had been planning how to figure out if the Professor was Margaret's father. Deciding that they wanted to keep it secret from Harry what they were doing, they agreed that when they talked about it, ever, they would refer to him as Lottie's dad. There was no way that he could be, in Audrey's mind. Both Margaret and Lily were unconvinced in either direction, however. It was with a plan in place that the three girls finally went up to their dormitory, where they did not have any dreams either.

* * *

The next morning, after Arthur showed him how to set a magical alarm, Harry got up at 6:30AM. This was sleeping late for him, as he had to get up at 5:00 AM at the Dursley's house to help make breakfast each morning. He got dressed in his new uniform and robes and went down to the Common Room to find Lily waiting for him. She explained that Margaret and Audrey were still asleep. So Harry and Lily went to the Great Hall. They found the classroom near the bathrooms and went inside to find Draco, and Greg Goyle. Okay, the note was a trap. Now they were going to be beaten up and possibly cursed or something. They started to walk out when Draco called after him. "Wait."

"What?" asked Harry coldly, "You set a trap for us and expect…"

"No, it's not a trap. Greg, well, he feels like me. He knows about the old ways like I do. His mum believes like my mum. We are both under the not-so-gentle thumbs of my father. I wanted to explain that Crabbe, Vincent Crabbe, is being paid by my father to make sure I stay in line. Greg here is also being paid but will simply repeat anything that Crabbe reports or will try to downplay Crabbe's report."

"And where is Crabbe?" queried Harry, wondering if the other large boy felt the way Draco and Greg felt.

"He's still asleep. He'll wake up around 8, I made sure to give him some sleeping potion. Now, I wanted to explain that I didn't mean the stuff on the train but when Crabbe is around, and some of the others too, I have to act a certain way. My father will not be pleased if I don't act like the pureblood scion of the House of Malfoy and will make his displeasure known," Draco said, rubbing his bottom. Harry understood this because making Vernon and Aunt Petunia unhappy was not conducive to a pain-free existence. He resisted the urge to rub his own bum and arms. While Vernon was fat and lazy, he did have a limit and Harry learned very quickly what to do and not to do to keep Vernon from overcoming his laziness and making his displeasure known to Harry; although, he did quite often forcefully grab Harry by the arms and yell and spit all over him, he never hit Harry much. Aunt Petunia was more likely to spank though; she often would smack him on the bum; not a hard smack, but enough to make him aware of her displeasure. Actually, she stopped doing that after the roof incident. After that, she just glared at him.

"So, what is it you want or need," asked Lily. She also understood that not upsetting Vernon was important. Aunt Petunia never spanked her, Audrey, or Margaret although she did scold them; she used to spank Harry; but she never even tried to pretend to correct Dudley. She also had this talent for being able to tell when someone was lying. It was probably to do with her natural Legimilency.

"I want an alliance, possibly friendship but we have to keep things a secret. I was right when I told you that you don't want to turn down valuable allies. In that book, about the Old Ways, if you read chapter…eight" said Draco looking at Greg. Greg nodded. Draco continued, "If you read Chapter eight, it will explain why muggleborns and muggle-raised need to cultivate alliances and friendships. See, in the 15th, 16th, 17th, and early 18th centuries, Old Noble Pureblood houses had to sponsor a muggleborn or muggle-raised witch or wizard into the Wizard world. A family like my family would meet with a muggle family that had a magical child; they would guide the family and help them keep the accidental magic a secret. They would sponsor the child through Hogwarts. Then, when the child graduated, they would change their last name to Malfoy, and when they married, their child became a Malfoy. This was a way of keeping the House name from extinction and keeping the magic strong while not losing one's name or house to a muggleborn. An old family named Black stopped this practice about a century or two ago and they started dying out and now they are nearly extinct. The last Black male is in Azkaban, the wizard prison, and when he dies, without children, the line will be extinct. My aunt is a Black and is also in Azkaban, and she is insane, and her husband, my mother's brother-in law, was insane before Azkaban. Another old family that stopped the practice was named Gaunt; the last one born was a squib who died about 60 years ago. By contrast the Potters kept the practice going, and all male Potters were encouraged to marry muggleborn females, and their magic was kept strong. I don't oppose muggleborns at all, I just think we should bring back the old ways."

For the first time Greg spoke up; he had a surprisingly child-like voice, "Yeah, the old ways kept us from going nuts or marrying our cousins which is just gross; I don't like my cousin Pansy. Ugh. And that's how the house of Goyle got started. My dad may agree with Draco's dad in public, but he also thinks the Old Ways were better. He taught me that 500 years ago a man named Gregory Jonathan Goyle was a muggleborn and attended Hogwarts under the sponsorship of House Malfoy. He was strong and allowed to start his own house, which became the House of Goyle. We may not be an Most Noble and Ancient House or a Noble House, but we are a Pureblood House, going back 5 generations. He also taught me about the Evans family, and how they are a long line of squibs. If your family were not squibs, then you'd be the Most Ancient and Noble House of Evans. Dad also taught me that most muggleborns are actually born of squibs. My dad makes magical furniture. Actually, it's my mum that does most of the magical work and my dad who does the rune work."

Harry looked at Lily who looked like she was thinking this over.

Draco spoke up then and said, "If you want to know more, look in the Library for a book called, 'Ancient Houses, Squib lines' and another book called, 'The New Pureblood houses' and one called 'House of Potter, Longbottom and Weasley.' By the way, you should try to make friends with that Longbottom bloke. The Longbottoms and the Potters, which are both Noble and Ancient houses, have been allies for as long as anyone can remember. The House of Weasley" here Draco got a slightly disgusted look, "is actually a cadet branch of both Longbottom and Potter, started about 500 years ago. The first Weasley, a muggleborn, was named Fredrick, and attended Hogwarts under the sponsorship of the House of Potter; that year the Head of House died and the House of Longbottom took over the Sponsorship and the House of Weasley became a cadet branch of both. My family has a feud with them because Fredrick refused sponsorship of House Malfoy and that is considered a great insult, one that is not easily forgotten or forgiven. It is supposed to last until both our Houses are annihilated, although if I can fix that, I will."

Harry looked thoughtful, while Lily made a mental note to look up the three books that Draco told her about and to re-read chapter 8 of her copy of 'Purebloods and the Old Ways'. She had read all 12 chapters of that book. It was very interesting.

Most of the Old Ways involved a Noble and Ancient House sponsoring a muggleborn child, guiding them into the wizard world. For females, it meant that the female would sometimes marry into that house, and for males, it meant that they took the surname of that house. Only the strongest and most powerful witches and wizards became a cadet branch. The house also gained someone who could help them blend into the muggle world better; this explained why Wizards were so inept at blending in. This was also how and why so many Ancient and Noble houses still existed.

Incidentally, the word mudblood was in the book in chapter 3 titled "Blood Traitors and Mudbloods" which explained the meaning of the two words. A blood traitor was a sponsored witch or wizard who refused to hold up their end of the bargain and refused to take on the name of the house that sponsored them and instead took on the name of a rival house hence betraying 'the blood of their house.' Mudblood was a word used to describe a muggleborn wizard who was brought into a house and made the heir with full blood adoption. The wizard then betrayed the house by using their own blood to undo the blood adoption by blood adopting themselves. This had the effect of basically making a person into their own parents and really screwed with or 'muddied' their genetics, hence a mudblood was one who used this method to 'mud up' their blood. People who did this had 3 general results; they went insane, lost their magic, or were unable to ever produce children.

Therefore, Draco and Greg only used either of those words where the world could hear them misusing them, and think that they were as narrow-minded as their fathers before them. Neither boy really wanted to take the Mark, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came back, but they both knew that they may have to, to keep appearances up. Draco's mother, Narcissa, was willing to join the Order of the Phoenix, the group that fought him off the last time, if it would help Draco and Greg.

* * *

**Thank you for reading this far! If you have any questions, I am happy to answer them!**

**Here are the past questions:**

**Guest: **what about underage magic? they cant preform magic, especially on muggles, if they are underage.

_**In this story, Dudley is a Squib, like his mother, so he technically not a Muggle. In addition, although Hagrid does sort of tell them not to do magic, he never tells them outright, and, as I doubt Dumbledore would want them expelled, he could have told the Ministry that it was accidental magic. In addition, since there are four people living in that house at this time, the Ministry cannot pinpoint which one of them it is, especially since Petunia is almost a witch, and therefore she could have done accidental magic as well.**_

**Thanks to the amazing beta, RUGoing2writethat, for helping me with the story to this point, and giving me ideas, such as how to make Draco be as he is in this story!**


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